


5 Times Tony took care of an Avenger and 1 Time they took care of him (whether or not he liked it)

by QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds



Series: MCU Crack Fics [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (I was surprised too), 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Blood and Injury, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Chocolate, Fluff and Crack, Friendship love, Hospital, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Hypothermia, Idiots in Love, Injury, Irondad & Spiderson, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Like it happens, Mention of blood, Natasha Romanov Feels, Nightmares, Nursemaid Tony, Panic Attacks, Parent Tony Stark, Pining Idiots, Post-Avengers (2012), Protective Avengers, Protective Bruce Banner, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, SO MUCH FLUFF, SO MUCH SARCASM, Sarcasm, Sassy Jarvis, Science Bros, Self-Hate Mentioned, Sick Clint Barton, Sick Peter Parker, Sick Tony Stark, Some dark themes, Stressed Bruce Banner, Swearing, Team as Family, This is supposed to be funny, Tony Being Tony, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark-centric, being sick, bronchitis, but nothing to bad, but so is Tony, just your normal supervillain attacking, more tags will follow when I will think of them, nothing graphic, open emotions, so much sass, sometimes it is, steve is a self sacrificing idiot, terrible patients, they are ridiculous and we know it, tony is Trying, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25917442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds/pseuds/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds
Summary: Tony is not the go-to-guy when people are sick, hurt, emotionally distraught or - actually he is never a go-to-guy aside from tech. But sometimes, no-one else is there and then he will step up.Because he is a Sucker™.Lots of idiots, protective everyone, teeth rotting fluff, sarcasm and weird shit.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark, Clint Barton & Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark pre relationship, Tony Stark & Avengers Team
Series: MCU Crack Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836838
Comments: 113
Kudos: 562





	1. Kinda Prologue and Peter

**Author's Note:**

> Still not owning Marvel. I'm surprised too. 
> 
> I know I'm late to the party, but I just couldn't stop myself because I'm a Sucker™ for Tony Stark, fluffy Avengers stuff and hurt characters.
> 
> I can't promise a schedule, but the chapters are already planned. 
> 
> Have fun reading!

**Kinda Prologue**

Tony is not the adult in the Avengers household. You know why? He drinks too much coffee, doesn’t sleep, forgets all his meetings Pepper doesn’t force him to go to (and sometimes those too), doesn’t listen when he was spoken to, barely remembered to put clothes on after another engineering binge and he eats like a 9-year-old left unsupervised (he knows that because it had happened when he was forgotten at home while Jarvis had been visiting England. His lovely parents had left for one trip or another and when Jarvis found him on the fourth day he had been throwing up violently. Who knew you couldn’t survive on sugar alone?).

The problem right now? No one else was an adult either. Sure, the rest of the gang liked to _pretend_ to be responsible grown-ups – Tony at least had the decency to admit to not even be trying.

Much too often they maneuvered themselves in situations where Tony had to pick up the pieces – or try to help them because they wouldn’t just ask for it damn it. (And, yes, he knows this makes him a fucking hypocrite and he hates it).

**Peter**

Steve had taken Peter, sweet, innocent and too good to be true Peter on his daily run. In December. _Knowing_ Peter couldn’t retain his body temperature as well as before the bite. Spiders were ectothermic and now, so was Peter.

And Peter – the lovable idiot – hadn’t said a word, because _Mr. Stark, Captain Amerika asked_ me _to run with him, I mean I couldn’t say no, could I?_

Tony would kill the super soldier. Then he would put Peter in a tower with heaters and without a way to escape. Rapunzel-stile. 

“M-Mr. S-Stark.” Peter was shivering, remnants of his human reactions to being cold were thankfully still working, even if not good enough.

“I’m here, Petey.” Tony’s hand brushed over his cold forehead, before he made a slight hand gesture out of the boy’s eyesight. At least two of Jarvis’ cameras would see it and increase the room temperature. Tony was already sweating, but that wasn’t important.

“I’m going to make you a hot chocolate, okay?”

Peter, laying under seven warm blankets and clutching a hot water bottle inside of a Hulk plushie nodded. “You-You’ll c-come ba-back?”

“Of course, Kid.” May would kill him if anything happened to her nephew. Or she would try. Tony would be faster though. But before that, he would kill the man responsible for this disaster. Slowly and painfully, torturing him would actually be a good idea. And he knew just the way to do it, too.

Before he left, he ruffled Peter’s hair again, because… there had to be a good reason for it, even if Tony wasn’t sure right now what that reason was. It couldn’t be that he was a Sucker™ for his Spiderbaby.

Leaving his bedroom – it was the safest place in the tower aside from his workshop and the Hulk room, and neither had been an option – he almost ran into Steve, who seemed to have camped out in front of his bedroom door.

“What the- Move!” Tony made a shooing motion with both his hands, ignoring Steve’s broad chest that was right in front of his eyes.

“How is he?” Somehow, Steve sounded small.

“Freezing because _someone_ took him out for a snow-run.” Tony hadn’t actually meant to say those words in such a sharp tone, but when it came to the kid, he couldn’t help himself. Not a Sucker™ at all.

“He will be okay, won’t he?” The pleading edge in his tone was enough to crack through Tony’s anger, because Tony, apparently, was also a Sucker™ for the devastated man in front of him.

“Of course, he will be.” His voice had softened. “It will probably take him just a couple of hours to get over the worst of it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” And he was. May had warned him about this. Peter would be tired and needed to eat and drink stuff with a lot of calories – that actually reminded him. “I was on my way to make him hot chocolate, so…”

“Of course!” Steve almost jumped aside, following Tony closely into his kitchen. “Can I help?”

“Sure.” While busying himself with getting the ingredients, he glanced at Steve who was still a little shaken and pale. About an hour ago he had come back flat out running faster than even he should be able to, clutching Peter to his chest, screaming for help. Tony had been sure Peter was dead. His heart had stopped, a shock, that was still lingering in his bones. Apparently, Peter hadn’t said a word before fainting in the frantic Captain’s arms.

Yep. He would make Avengers tower into Peter’s prison. He would never ever be allowed outside again. Ever. His heart couldn’t take it. Or his reputation or the sliver of self-respect he still had left.

Tony would deny it to his dying day, but he had tackled Captain America trying to get to Peter, to help, to do _something_. Of course, he had thought frantic and with a manic screech in his head, Bruce was at a conference and wouldn’t be able to help.

“Jarvis!” He had rasped, trying to find a wound, blood anything that would tell him what had happened to his kid.

Jarvis had clued him in and after ignoring Steve’s spluttering, that it couldn’t be hypothermia, he told him to shut up, took Peter out of his arms and carried him to his own bed. He would never admit that the kid had almost broken his back. After settling him down between blankets and pillows and telling Jarvis to burn down the building if necessary to get Peter warm, he had waited.

“I didn’t know.”

He should have known and something ugly and vindictive stirred in Tony’s chest. He had told Cap a million times at least that yes, Peter was enhanced, but not like Steve. They were different. He could understand that both were relieved to have someone who could understand a lot of their quirks – like eating enough for ten people each – he felt the same with Bruce his brilliant Science-Bro, but that didn’t change anything.

“I would never put him at risk if-”

Tony knew that. Of course, he knew. Steve would never put anyone in harm’s way, least of all one of his teammates. Or a kid. Tony's kid.

Tony looked up, locking eyes with the distraught blond. “Breathe, Steve.”

Steve breathed.

Heating the milk and cream (half and half) in a pot with a vanilla pod sliced in the middle, he broke the dark chocolate bar in even pieces. He put the chocolate pieces into the pod, stirring it constantly. He added a little more chocolate until he was satisfied with the rich brown color of the drink, adding just a little brown sugar. Human-Jarvis would be proud of him, if he knew he still remembered this recipe. Actually, his Jarvis might be proud too, that he didn’t offer Peter coffee. Even Tony had something resembling common sense from time to time it seemed.

“You really love him, don’t you?”

Still stirring Tony looked up, meeting Steve’s blue eyes. There was something wistful in his voice, almost a longing. His smile just showed kindness. Too much of it, actually.

“Have you tried to not like him? It’s impossible, I swear!” Tony huffed, a splash too defensive.

“Yeah, I like him too.” Steve relented, that same smile still on his lips, even though there was a hint of sadness now, too.

“He’s going to be fine, Cap.” Tone reassured, taking the chocolate milk from the stove, still stirring it.

“Are we?”

“Huh?”

Sometimes Tony can be eloquent. Actually, most of the times he is exceptionally brilliant with words. He can use them to defend and attack, to sell a camel sand and charm just about anyone he wishes. Sometimes he makes grunting noises like a Neanderthals. That happened mostly, of course, in front of Steve. Because the universe and fate itself hates him.

Buying himself more time, he picked the vanilla pod out of the pot and dropped it into the trash bin.

“Are we okay, Tony? I didn’t know he would-” Steve still looked stricken, almost fearful and that just wasn’t right.

“I know Steve.” Tony deflated, the mental images of sitting Steve down and forcing him to watch his humiliating videos about detention for hours, vanishing. “I know. We’re good. Just. Don’t take him on one of your runs until it’s at least 60 degrees out there. And still have him wear a wind jacket.”

“Of course, yes.”

The way his eyes lit up was too much. Fuck, Tony was a Sucker™ for the human equivalent of a puppy. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Grabbing three of the mega-mugs he had bought for exactly this reason, Tony split the chocolate milk in three parts. Two portions for the people with a super metabolism and a third for him, just because Peter would ask where his was. So would probably Steve come to think of it. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was still trying to hide his shaking hands. Or that it always reminded him of the safe presence of the human-Jarvis, who would make this for him when he felt sick or hurt or lonely. He had basically lived off of this stuff during his childhood.

“Here, make yourself useful.” Tony nodded at both mugs filled to the brim, rolling his own in his steady hands. Jap. Steady. So. Damn. Steady.

“Are you okay, Tony?”

“I said, we were okay, just stop ask-”

“Are _you_ okay, Tony?” Steve asked with more emphasis, taking a step closer, his eyes both concerned and guilty with a hint of something else.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I-”

“Tony.”

“You can take your condescending look and shove it-”

“Sir?”

“Yes?” He gritted out, thankful for the interruption. He didn’t want to fight. He was too emotional. Nope, no, he wasn’t. Everything was fine.

“Mr. Parker asked where you were.”

“Shit.” Without looking back, he turned on his heel, heading for his bedroom. Opening the door, he smiled at the sick kid. “Hey there Petey, make some room, will you?”

Peter looked a little better, he wasn’t shivering as violently and his skin color was just a little less freshly fallen snow.

He attempted to move, but Tony had maybe, just maybe, tucked him in a little too tight. And had put too many pillows around him. Just like a few.

Putting the mug down on his night stand, he helped Peter untangle a little, sitting him up, propped up by the very necessary pillows. Getting rid of his shoes, he sat down beside Peter, on top of the blankets still pilled on the kid. Glancing at the thermostat he held back a groan. 80? Seriously? Whatever, as long as Peter was comfortable.

His gaze met Steve’s who was standing in the door of his bedroom, as if he was a vampire and needed a special invitation.

“Peter is waiting for his hot chocolate, Cap, come on, chop chop.”

That had him moving. Carefully, he rounded the bed, to not lean over Tony and handed Peter the mug.

“Thank you.” Peter smiled up at Steve, before setting his brown puppy eyes on Tony. “Thank you, Mr. Stark, you didn’t need to-”

“Of course, short stuff. Now drink up. What do you wanna watch?”

“Watch?” Peter asked, while Steve put the second mug down on the other night stand and made to leave.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Steve flinched, as if Tony had screamed at him, and sure, maybe his tone had been a little harsh, but no reason to look at him as if he was about kill Steve. He had said they were fine, hadn’t he?

“Grab your mug and sit your ass down.”

For a second Steve hesitated. Tony raised his eyebrow and the shoulders of the super soldier dropped. He shuffled back to the bed, removed his shoes and sat down beside Peter, his back rigid.

Satisfied, Tony looked back at Peter. “Come on, what do you want to watch? We’ll be here for a while.”

“You will?” The hope in his kid’s voice was just too much. Was he that much of an asshole that-

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. I know you have a lot to do, you don’t need…”

“I want to be here, Petey.” He ruffled the kid’s hair again. He would be here.

They ended up watching a show called The Dragon Prince. After finishing his hot chocolate, Peter snuggled into Tony’s side and Tony placed his arm around the boy, keeping him close. Just because his arm had to be somewhere.

“He loves you.” Steve whispered almost too quietly for Tony to hear.

Tony looked up from the mob of hair pressed to his stomach into Steve’s eyes. The same smile from earlier was on his face, confusing Tony even more.

“He is just tired and-”

“No, he loves you.”

Tony cleared his throat, looking back to the screen. “How did you like the hot chocolate?”

“The best I’ve ever had.” Steve’s voice softening even more.

Hours later, they were woken by the gleeful snicker of Clint and the click of a camera. While Tony bend protectively over Peter’s still sleeping form, Steve was almost out of bed, his posture clearly ready to attack.

“Happy family time?” Clint asked cheerfully, not hiding that he was still taking pictures.

“Birdbrain, I swear, I’m going to-” Tony threatened, while Steve relaxed his stance slightly.

“You can’t, Irondad, Spiderbaby has you trapped.”

Clint, annoyingly, was right. Peter was clutching his shirt and was still snuggled into his side. Lightly brushing the back of his hand against his forehead, Tony relaxed. Peter’s skin was warm and judging by his expression, he was content. He wouldn’t risk that for something petty like revenge.

“Steve?”

Steve glanced back at him, he still was halfway between them and the open door.

“Get him.”

Steve smirked at him. A second later, he ran after a cursing Clint, who, guessing by the sounds alone, was having a hard time staying ahead.

(Peter, after being fed a whole breakfast buffet, was practically back to his old self. Tony couldn’t even start to comprehend how relieved he was. When Peter hugged him goodbye that night before returning to May, he pressed a kiss in the boy’s hair. Peter blushed slightly but his smile was bright enough to light the night sky, so it was okay. Until Tony turned around and realized, Clint had been filming the scene. Swearing vengeance, he tried to follow Clint into the vents, got stuck and had to be rescued by none other than Steve.)

(Clint would suffer for this. Tony wasn’t yet sure how, but he would suffer.) 


	2. Clint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint is sick and as no one else is in the tower who would be better than Tony?
> 
> In Tony's eyes? Some stranger passing by, but Nat has other ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Fan Fics is apparently a great way to escape what you actually should work on. Like your rl job. At least I'm not taking drugs, right?
> 
> I hope you have fun with this chapter :)

Clint did suffer for it. But so did Tony because karma was a bitch.

“Tony?”

The genius looked up from the hologram he was fixing, meeting the stormy green eyes of Natasha, clad in her black leather suit.

“Trouble?” He asked, sitting back with half a mind to ask Jarvis to prepare the suit.

“Worse.”

“Oookay?” There was too much emotion in her voice, too much frustration. People didn’t get easily under the Black Widows skin.

“You know that Bruce is on his Yoga-vacation?”

“Sure.” His Brucey-bear had been high strung in the last weeks so Tony had shipped him off, to drink his disgusting tea and stare at walls.

“And that Steve is in Washington to train new recruits?”

“Yes.”

“And Thor, of course, is still off world.”

“Yeah. What do you need Nat?”

“I just got an assignment.”

Obviously. Natasha never stated the obvious. Something was very wrong. Especially since there was a relieved tone to her voice.

“You have to cover for me with Clint.”

“What? Why?”

“He is sick.”

“Okay?”

“He is sick and he needs… chaperoning.”

“No.”

“He needs it.”

“No.”

“He will die without it.”

“No.”

“He will.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Five minutes later – and wasn’t that a record worthy of boasting about, refusing Natasha for five whole minutes – the Black Widow dumped the Sucker™ Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, philanthropist and former playboy made nursemaid on Clint’s floor.

“Make him drink, make him rest and don’t kill him.” She pushed him unceremoniously out of the elevator, meeting his glare with a death stare.

“What if I kill him?” Tony tried hard to keep the slight unease out of his voice. He wasn’t good with sick people. Hell, he wasn’t good with people period. Clint and he were friends, sure, but making sure he survived? Tony barely survived! How was he supposed to-

“I’m sure, you will have had a good reason.” Nat pushed a button and waved him good bye with a dagger in hand. If that wasn’t a threat, Tony really was a nursemaid.

“Jay?”

“Sir?”

“What is his diagnosis?”

Better start safe: with scientific facts before adding the human component. That was mostly the point where things got complicated.

“Agent Barton was diagnosed with bronchitis the day before yesterday. He is showing the symptoms of fever, harsh coughing, body aches, a sore throat and rattling breath. He appears to be weak and rather grumpy.”

“Great.” That did sound terrible and like Tony should hike out of here right now. If Clint, who was as healthy as a horse, got reduced to a state like that, what would happen to Tony and his diminished lung capacity? Especially since bronchitis was only one step before pneumonia.

“What are treatments?”

“Agent Barton was prescribed a cough syrup. He needs to drink a lot of fluids. Best suited is water and herbal teas. He should eat light food and get plenty of rest."

“So basically, the exact opposite of everything I do and stand for?”

“Basically.”

“Got it.”

Taking a deep breath, Tony wandered over to Clint’s bedroom. The floor plans were the same, only the decoration… varied. Clint’s floor, as a random example, could have easily passed as a kindergarten for assassins. Everything was colorful, bullseyes everywhere with arrows and knifes sticking out of them. His living room was a climbing parkour with various nests for him to hide. Clothes were laying everywhere and Tony decided to not go near the kitchen if he could help it. (He wouldn’t be able to help it.)

“Birdbrain?” Tony knocked at the door of his bedroom, waiting for an answer.

None came.

“Clint?” Tony tried again, knocking a little more forcefully.

“Whatever.” Tony pushed the door open. Patience has never been a virtue of his.

Clint’s bedroom was sparse. It looked like the only clean room around, and Tony knew at once why: Clint wasn’t here.

“Fuck.” Had he lost him already? He had to be around here somewhere or Nat wouldn’t have dumped him here.

“Jay?” There was just the slightest frantic tone to his voice. Since the Arc reactor Tony had come accustomed to colds and lung infections. He knew how unpleasant they could be. He also knew that there were cough syrups who could seriously mess with you, especially if they were taken on an empty stomach.

“Agent Barton is in his main nest, Sir.”

“You are kidding me.”

“I’m afraid I’m not. Agent Barton likes to… sleep high in such situations.”

The pause was more telling than anything else, and it made something in Tony’s stomach churn. Clint needed to feel safe, so he hid. Sick as a dog and he had climbed up somewhere. 

“Did you say _main nest_?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“As in he has more than one?”

“He has at least seventeen that I know of. Four of those are in the vents.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I would never, Sir.” Jarvis answered, primly.

Matter aside that Jay would totally do that, Tony had other worries. Namely, a sick spy-assassin hiding in one of his nests. How was this his life? Flying robot penguins? Sure, why not, but this?

“Where is he?”

“In the living room in the colorful construction of blankets in the left corner over the television, Sir.”

Sighing, Tony walked over, looking up to the ridiculous high ceilings. Who thought high ceilings in a skyscraper were a good idea?

“Clint?”

No reaction.

“Clint!”

Now, there was movement in the construct, hold by only hooks in the wall and ropes. Judging, Tony decided, it would hold not only Clint but Tony too, if he had to get up there.

“Clint, if you don’t come down, I will get my armor and get you myself.”

There was grunting coming from the ceiling, maybe a whimper? Worry started to overbalance the annoyance Tony felt for standing in the archers living room talking to a blanket nest at the freaking ceiling.

“Don’t make me count to three!” He stopped dead. Horrified, he glared up at one of Jarvis’ cameras. “What is happening to me?”

“That would be fatherhood, Sir.”

“You take that back Jarvis!”

“Stop yelling.” Clint’s mob of hair was the first sign of him. A few seconds later the rest of his face followed. He looked as awful as his voice had sounded.

“You look like shit.”

“Get lost.”

“Nat sends me.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“She called it _chaperoning_.”

“Get lost.” He rasped out before a coughing fit stopped him. Even from where Tony stood he could hear the rattling in his lungs. He knew that pain, how the lung constricted, how the chest would feel too tight and raw. It felt as if you didn’t get enough air and the little you got hurt you.

“Come down.”

“No.”

“I’m not sure what you heard, but if you don’t come down, I will get the armor and come and get you.”

“Just let me suffer in silence.”

“Nope.”

“What do you want then?” Clint asked, tiredly, with the rattling and rasping that hurt even Tony’s throat listening to him.

“Come down. You need to rest and drink tea and shit.”

Clint’s eyes, dull from the fever, tried to focus on Tony, as if he wasn’t sure if he was actually there and what he really wanted. Tony couldn’t fault him for it, he felt rather out of his depth as well.

It took a big portion of his self-restraint to wait for Clint to process the information, think about it and then come to a conclusion.

“No.”

“Jarvis.”

“The Iron Man suit is on its way.”

“Stark…”

“I don’t give a flying fuck, you come down there right now, or I will make you.” Tony groaned. He really did sound like a father. Like a stuck up one too. Not that he had any illusion whatsoever that he could be any kind of decent one.

“’m fine. Go away.”

The ping of the elevator, followed by the unmistakable sound of his armor walking over and Tony could have cried. At least that was something he knew.

“Tony.” Clint whined, his voice not much more than a pained whisper.

“Time’s up, princess.”

Stepping into his shell, Tony relished the feeling of control for a second before he flew up, ready to wrestle Clint out of his nest and tie him to the couch.

Clint looked half dead. His skin was damp from sweat, his temperature was at 102.7 and all information provided by Jarvis compiled to: he was sick alright.

“Come on, birdbrain.” Gingerly, Tony moved his arms under the archer who, to his credit, didn’t even try to fight. Instead, he shivered when he came in contact with the cold armor, trying to stifle a coughing fit.

Careful, so very careful, Tony flew down, putting Clint on the Couch, before looking up to the man’s nest.

“Are there more blankets, Jay?”

“I’m afraid not on Agent Barton’s floor, Sir.”

“Okay.” Tony looked down at the shivering mess that had curled into a ball. He had seen Clint standing tall while the world around him burned, slashed up, shot and bleeding, with a smile that belittled it all. He had seen him goofing around, in sweat pants and on one traumatizing occasion, without them. Never would he have thought of him as small. Right now, Clint looked small.

“Will you kill me, if I take the blankets from your nest?”

Clint mumbled something unintelligible and Tony decided, to not risk it. Chances were already high that he would be killed by an arrow as soon as Clint had recovered, so Tony would try to be respectful of his nests.

“Jay, rise the temperature. Clint, I’m going to steal all the blankets I can find, alright?” Not waiting for an answer, he stepped into the elevator where he left his armor while traveling up to his floor. Since Peter stayed over some weekends Tony had stored enough warm blankets to survive an ice age and he was willing to lend them to Clint. Because Nat would kill him otherwise. No other reason, obviously.

After finding eleven of Peter’s favorite blankets (all of them thick, fluffy and extra warm), Tony went back, hoping against hope that Clint was still on the couch. He was. Probably because he was shaking like a leaf and wouldn’t have been able to climb into his nest. Without saying a word, Tony started to wrap Clint in two of the double sized blankets, before spreading the rest of them over Clint. While doing it, he focused on what the human Jarvis had done for him when he had been sick.

“Tony?”

“Yeah?” Tony placed the last blanket over Clint and then looked at the now bright red of his face.

“I need to pee.”

“That’s a joke, right?”

“Nope.”

“You couldn’t have said so two minutes ago?” Tony grumbled, while removing all the blankets again. That right here was one of the reasons he never had children.

Clint moved sluggishly, needing two attempts to sit up. Dread pooled in Tony’s gut, because, surely, that was not going to happen, right? Oh, please, god, no.

“Are you okay?” He asked, apprehensive, both of Clint falling face first to the floor and him asking for assistance to take a piss.

“Never better.” Clint rasped, swaying on unsteady feet, but still getting closer to the bathroom even if it was at a glacier pace.

“Jay.”

“I will immediately alarm you, if Agent Barton needs any kind of assistance. Might I remind you, that this would be a perfect opportunity to prepare tea, Sir?”

“How long have you waited to say that, Jay?”

“As long as I was able to understand what the human body needs to survive.”

“You take that back, you ungrateful circuit board! Coffee is the only thing I need.”

“I strongly disagree, Sir. If you’d like I have a Power Point presentation prepared to explain in detail-”

“One of these days I really will gift you to some Community College and force you to teach them basic math.”

“My servers are trembling, I assure you.”

This had to be karma, getting him back for the whole Merchant of Death thing and being a despicable human being, Tony was sure. What other explanation was there for any of this?

Stepping into the danger zone – also known as Clint’s kitchen – Tony was pleasantly surprised to find it almost perfectly clean. The big plastic back under the kitchen island probably meant Natasha had thrown everything in the trash, before putting down the water heater, a thermos, a clean mug and two packs of bronchial tea.

Glancing at the ingredients – what the hell was althaea officinalis and why would you drink it? – he prepared the tea. Hot water and tea bags? Even he could do that much.

“Do you need honey?” He yelled, when he heard the opening bathroom door. He filled both the mug and thermos to the brim, ignoring the smell. Bruce drank that stuff of his own free will. He loved the man like a brother but there had to be something seriously wrong with him.

“Sure, sugar.” Came the rasping replay.

“Sugar it is, honey.”

“Sir-”

“I know, Jay.”

Dumping big spoons of honey in the vile smelling leaf drink, he went back into the living room, where Clint tried to make himself into a blanket burrito. When he finished, Tony threw three more blankets over him.

“Now, tea.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a suggestion.”

“I don’t wanna.” Clint whined.

“Who cares.” Tony held the mug to the archer. “By god, I will force feed this to you, if I have to.”

Clint looked up at him. “Why are you so mean to me? I’m sick!”

“Because I’m an asshole and I love to torture you.”

“Nat would never!”

“She would have already killed you.”

“Okay.” Clint wiggled his hands free, accepting the mug. Sniffing, he gagged. “Be honest, have you poisoned this?”

“It’s bronchial tea.”

“Poison.”

“Could be. You’ll drink it regardless.” Tony sat down beside Clint, ignoring his weak attempts at death glares. He was barely able to keep his eyes open.

“It smells.”

“The sooner you drink it, the sooner I stop bothering you.”

Clint sighed and by the way he tensed, Tony could guess how unpleasant even that was. Putting the mug to his lips, he took the tiniest sip ever before gagging again.

“You are evil.”

Smiling serenely, Tony showed Clint his teeth. “You didn’t know?” Breathing in, Tony tried to channel his inner calm or whatever bullshit Bruce would do when he had to cope with Tony in one of his moods. If the Hulk could do it, so could he.

“I’m not going to drink that.”

“Yes, you will.”

“Just kill me.”

“Where would be the fun in that?”

“It’s vile and I don’t wanna drink it.”

“You know what? That’s it!” Tony growled. Apparently, he couldn’t do it. Taking the mug from the archer’s hands, he put it to his lips and downed it in one go. And by god, was Tony thankful that he didn’t have a gag reflex since collage (and that he could down almost boiling fluids because of his caffeine addiction). That stuff was vile. “Now it’s your turn, asshole.” He refilled the mug with the thermos, pressing it back in Clint’s hands.

“I don’t want your bacteria!”

“Are you shitting me? You probably just gave me pneumonia! Shut up and drink the damned tea!”

Hesitating, Clint glared at Tony, his eyes wandering down to his Arc reactor for a moment, before settling back on his eyes. Sighing heavily, he put the mug back to his lips, drinking it in large gulps. Shuddering, he handed it back to Tony. “You’re a monster.”

“Love you too.”

Clint groaned, lying back down comfortably.

“If you don’t need anything else, I’ll check on you in a few hours.”

“Where are you going?”

Clint’s eyes had opened again and if Tony didn’t know that Clint would never look lost and lonely just lying on his couch, he would have sworn, one of the spy-assassins was looking up at him with the expression of a frightened four-year-old.

“The other terrifying red head in my life demands my services as well.” Pepper wasn’t trained like Natasha, but she would be able to kill Tony quite effectively too.

“Oh, sure.” Clint settled back into the blankets. “I’m fine."

Fuck. No, no, no, no. Nope. No. No way. That wasn’t guilt settling in the pit of his stomach. Clint was a grown man. He wasn’t dying. Tony was just a few floors away and would be here as soon as Jarvis called him. He was safe. There was absolutely no reason whatsoever to…

Fuck. Tony really was a Sucker™.

“I have a couch down there that is much more comfortable than this crap thing here. Who ordered it anyways, Jay?”

“I did, Sir.”

“A terrible choice.”

“As you say, Sir.”

“Up, birdbrain, come on. On your feet, chop chop.” Not waiting for a response, Tony pulled the archer up, pressed a bunch of blankets in his arms, grabbed him, the thermos and Clint’s mug and pushed him towards the elevator. “Move it, time is money and in my case that actually means millions.”

“No reason to kick the sick, Stark.”

“Shut up, Barton.”

As soon as the elevator stopped, Tony slung his arm tighter around Clint’s waist, taking most of his weight.

“You’re an attractive man, Tony, but I’m not a home wrecker.” The small smile on Clint’s lips was enough to make the genius beam at him.

“Good thing I’m single then.”

“You sure you are?”

“Wouldn’t I be the first to know if I wasn’t?”

“Nope, I don’t think so. Idiots.” Sighing, Clint sat down on the couch, his eyes already slipping close.

With an efficiency Tony would never admit to, he made Clint into another blanket burrito, piling three more blankets on him, before checking on his breathing. It was still rattling, but calm and steady, so it could be worse.

“Jarvis?”

“Sir?”

“Set an alarm. Every hour.”

“Very good, Sir.”

Throwing one last glance at the sleeping man on his couch, Tony turned to his latest project.

That’s how Natasha found them a couple hours later. Clint snuggled into a bunch of blankets sleeping restfully while Tony talked to himself, the bots, Jarvis and danced through the workshop. She was about to make herself known, when the sound of an old alarm clock stopped Tony in his movement. The genius immediately abandoned whatever he was doing at the moment, moving over to her archer, waking him with a gentle poke to his cheek.

“Next torture session, birdbrain.”

Clint, obviously still half asleep tried to knock Tony’s hand away. The smile on the genius lips was something Nat hadn’t seen directed at anyone else than Peter, Rhodey and Pepper.

Tony ignored the grumbled protest, filling two mugs right beside Clint from a thermos, before helping him sit up.

“Bottoms up.” He said, pressing one of the mugs in Clint’s hands, smiling challenging.

Clint glared at him, knocked his mug against Tony’s and both men chugged the tea as if it was beer and they were freshmen at a frat party.

“God that’s disgusting.” Clint wheezed.

“You tell me.” Tony hissed.

Grinning to herself, Nat turned around, stepping silently into the elevator. Both Tony and Clint seemed happy. She shouldn’t have worried. Of course, Irondad would take care of a sick Clint. He took care of all of them after all.

(When Tony found out that she had been home the next morning, he was livid. The angelic smile on Nat’s face made it only worse. He had slept on Clint’s floor to make sure his birdbrain didn’t die in his sleep, so what? It didn’t make it easier, that she kissed his cheek, thanking him for taking care of Clint. She now had proof that Tony was a Sucker™ and he knew, that she would use that against him, somehow.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> After finishing this I have the next installment already planned, so stay tuned?
> 
> Kudos and Comments are very much appreciated!


	3. Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha has a hard night and a certain genius stumbles into her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I given up on this whole "real life" thing? Possible.
> 
> Here, have another chapter.

Stumbling out of his workshop Tony managed to almost split his head on the wall. Jap, genius for sure. Who would dare to question that? (Aside from Jarvis, Rhodey, Pepper and the Avengers of course. But they didn’t count.)

He would never, under no circumstances admit that Cap might have had a point telling him that he should eat something at least once in a while. (Actually, Steve wanted him to eat like three meals a day. Who had the time? Not eating for, what was it by now? Almost 76 hours? Hey, a new record!)

What was he thinking again? Oh, yeah, food.

He dragged himself to the elevator, mumbling something that Jarvis probably understood. Or he knew his creator well enough by now that he knew that right now, all he wanted was to steal some leftovers from the communal floor and then sleep for at least six hours – if he could manage.

The kitchen was dark when he found his way there. Finding the refrigerator blind, he opened it, rummaging for something to eat. Heureka, there was pizza! Turning around to put it on the kitchen island behind him, he shrieked like a little girl, when he saw Natasha sitting there, a mug in front of her.

“Hey Tony,” Natasha said, calmly.

There went another decade of his life.

“I have a weak heart, Nat, one of these days you will kill me.”

The twitch that barely moved her shoulders would have been a full body shudder for anyone else. Fuck.

Tony was not equipped for this. Even if her expression was as blank as a faceless mannequin, her eyes betrayed her, at least to the team. Natasha Romanov, spy, assassin and Black Widow had another nightmare. That wasn’t news, of course. Every Avenger had them. And all of them handled them the same way. They didn’t talk about it. They told the others that talking helped, that they were there for them and then bottled them up, deep inside, to never see the light of day.

Tony handled them a little differently. He never told anyone to talk about them and then never talked about his own.

“Do you mind if I eat here?” he asked Natasha, keeping his voice calm and disinterested.

“It’s your kitchen.” Her voice was off. Not in a way that was really detectable but there still was something. A hint of tiredness, vulnerability and agony.

“It’s our kitchen.” Tony closed the refrigerator, and sat down on one of the bar stools in front of the assassin. “Lights at 10% Jay.”

The kitchen was illuminated with a warm shimmer, barely bright enough to decipher the others facial expression.

Tony opened the carton, pushing it between himself and the spy. “Want some?”

“I ate.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t want some.”

Nat looked up, fixing him with her green eyes that looked black in the lacking light. He let her scrutinize him. She had seen him at his worst, this was absolutely nothing and if it gave her something else to think about, even better.

“When did you eat last?”

He shrugged. She wasn’t as bad as Steve, but it would be stupid to answer that honestly.

“Aside from snacks, Sir hasn’t eaten in 75 hours and 37 minutes.”

“Thanks, Jay. You can shut up now.”

“Answering questions of the residents of Avengers Tower is one of my main responsibilities.”

“I will burn your servers and replace you with Siri!”

“Tony.”

If that wasn’t a bittersweet win: Nat was thinking about other things than her nightmare. Probably how to torture him into a regular eating schedule.

“Eat the pizza.”

“I was going to when you two interrupted me,” he mumbled, taking the first slice: salami and pepperoni. Not his favorite, but he was hungry enough to have eaten Bruce’s veggie supreme.

Natasha remained sitting there, silently judging him, her eyes following every of his movements. In the last couple of months, they had become friends and he had seen her relax around all of them little by little. She even slept a couple of times during movie nights. But after nightmares, she always got that edge to her again. Even now, holding onto a mug full of tea like it was her lifeline, in her warm PJs, she was waiting for an attack. Waiting to be forced to kill to stay alive.

Not that Tony had taken the time to observe her behavior. Or had Jarvis send her tea and her favorite sweets when she got one of the bad ones. And even if he did that, it was something Jarvis did for all the other Avengers, too. It had nothing to do with Tony, really. He was responsible for their living quarters, so he had told Jarvis to take care of it. He hadn’t really thought about it either. It had just been a comment in passing to his ever-listening AI. He might have requested some specifics for each Avenger, but that was just to… well, it just was.

Pushing the carton closer to Nat ones more, he nodded at one of the slices. “That ones with asparagus. It’s disgusting. You eat it.”

Natasha probably raised one of her slender brows, or she didn’t, it was too dark to say and Tony knew, right now, she wanted to watch, not be watched.

Silently, she picked it up, her movements hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure she really was allowed.

Tony picked the next slice and bit into it.

The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. This wasn’t the first time they had met each other in the middle in the night. Sometimes their schedules forced them to have late hours. Sometimes one of them had a nightmare or couldn’t sleep. They never talked much. Or at all. But having company made it easier.

“You did great with Clint.”

Tony looked up from his third slice, debating if he should finish it or actually eat some rabbit food. Scurvy was a real concern with him sometimes. This was one of those times.

“I didn’t kill him.” He agreed, lowering his eyes again.

“You took good care of him. Thank you.”

“Yeah. Sure.” This was too much raw emotion right here. He hadn’t slept in forever and Natasha was vulnerable right now. Better to play it safe.

“You take care of us.”

His eyes shot up at that, finding Nat’s and holding them. There was warmth in them and honesty.

“You take that back or I’ll sue you for denigration.” He said it low and threatening, letting her see the small smile on his lips. Because he was a Sucker ™. This was so way out of his depth that he was almost flying.

Standing up, Natasha moved around the island and Tony worried for a moment he could have offended her – which would result in his painful death, still he didn’t turn around, presenting the Black Widow his unprotected back. Being trusted was what Natasha needed these nights more than anything else.

She walked around the island again, sitting down gracefully and let something fall beside the pizza. It was different chocolates, most of them her favorites, some new. Most of them dark or with coconut. All of them imported from Germany.

“You know why I prefer them?” The unspoken _to Russian or American_ was loud enough to resound in Tony’s ears. He had never asked. It had been a coincident that he had discovered it at all. One time, when his life had been threatened again, Cap had made Agent Romanov shadow him on his trip through Europe a few weeks after the Battle of New York. They had been at a fundraiser for something or other and there had been a Candy Bar. Up until that point Tony hadn’t known that Natasha had a sweet tooth that wasn’t rivaled by no one. Not even Thor. She had tried everything and then, before boarding the plane back, had bought a pack of all of those sweets now lying between them.

After a while, Tony had added more and different kinds of chocolates, different brands and other flavors, but these were the ones she preferred to everything else.

Looking back into her eyes, he shook his head ones, waiting if she would elaborate. He almost hoped she wouldn’t. Being given any kind of information by her was… almost unheard of if you weren’t Clint.

“I was on a job in Germany when I first ate a piece of chocolate.” She held his eyes, as if waiting for his reaction.

“After Clint turned me.” She ended the sentence in its middle, hesitating as if it was already too personal information she had shared. Tony would never judge her for it. There were things he would never tell another soul.

“I… We had a mission. France.”

Tony nodded. Not encouraging. Not discouraging. Just acknowledging.

“After we had to flee through Germany and.” Pause. “There was a shop.” Another Pause. “It had sweets.” She nodded at the items on the table, not looking back at Tony, but rather staring intently on the sweets on the table. Tony followed her example.

“We were hungry, so we ate them.” She exhaled, as if she had just offered her whole life story.

“First thing I did after landing back in America? I ate a cheeseburger.” Tony offered. Actually, his mouth had acted without consulting his brain beforehand. The asshole.

“I know.”

“Of course, you do.” There was an exasperated smile in his voice, still, Nat stiffened.

“Hell, the whole world knows,” Tony huffed, trying to salvage the situation. “I didn’t even put it down while shutting down the company.” It was a peace offer and Nat took it.

Or so Tony thought.

“Does it bother you?”

Bothered by the question, Tony looked up at her, waiting for her to meet his eyes. “What?”

“That I… spy on you. All of you.”

She still hadn’t looked up asking it with a neutral voice.

“It did in the beginning.” And it had. Sometimes, Tony thought, it still bothered him. But now he understood. “And it isn’t like I don’t hack into Shield and all our personal files at least ones a month, so I can’t really say anything.”

Natasha’s shoulders hunched, even if it was barely a millimeter.

“You do it to protect us.” Her voice was small and Tony almost panicked.

“So, do you.” It was hard to keep his voice steady. For a heartbeat, he hoped that all of this was a dream or hallucination. He might have passed out in his workshop. God, didn’t that sound good right about now?

“Not always.”

“Sure you do.”

She glanced up at him and the hope in her eyes almost broke Tony. This was so not what he was good at. He would say the wrong thing and then Nat would kill him or he hurt her and then everyone else would kill him.

Whatever she saw in his eyes, seemed to calm her. She nodded, looking back down at the chocolates. Picking one out of the bunch Tony knew to be her most favorite comfort food, she pushed it towards him.

She never handed him things outside of battle and even then, she tried to not do it. She had intervened, especially in the beginning when the others had tried to. She still did it when meeting with outsiders.

Tony wasn’t all that fond of coconut, preferring blueberries himself, but he knew how protective Nat was of her sweets. Opening the wrapper, he bit into it and stopped.

“This is good.”

Nat looked up at him, incredulousness on her face. Shit what was it with Nat and open emotions today? Tonight? Not the freaking point, Stark!

“You have bought them for months for me and you never tried them?” There was a new note in Nat’s voice and Tony could have cried with relief. She was mocking him.

“I thought it was just chocolate.”

“No. Hershey’s is _just chocolate_. This is Coconut Duplo.”

“Are the others as good?”

“Almost.”

“Damn, and I have missed out all my life?”

“Apparently.” The smile on her lips was relaxed, her posture more peaceful than Tony had ever seen after a night like this.

“Well, I’m glad you could set that straight.”

“Try this one.” She pushed a chocolate bar to him. It was a new flavor, saying so on the wrapping and he looked up to her.

“Am I your guinea pig?”

“I ate three bars of them already. Try it.”

He did. It was a revelation. “It’s good.”

“Oh, it’s better than good, Stark. It’s fantastic.”

“Okay, it might be delicious. Happy?”

The smile that stretched her lips into an actual smile was better than any answer.

(The next day, Tony found a chocolate bar of the same kind in his workshop. A week after he found blueberries covered in dark chocolate. Imported from Germany.)

(If he set a new protocol, telling Jarvis to alert him if Natasha had a bad night, that was his secret to keep.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments, I really can't tell you how much they mean to me!


	4. Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce has a panic attack. And Tony almost follows suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did write this yesterday but didn't want to post two chapters in one day because I knew I wouldn't have enough time today (tomorrow?) to write a next one because I actually do have a job. Who would have guessed?
> 
> Enjoy!

“Bruce?”

No answer.

“Brucey bear?”

No answer.

“Come on science bro, I _know_ you are there.”

Still no answer.

Annoyed, Tony pushed himself up. He just wanted to ask the other genius over the intercom if he was up for a break. Shocking, he knew. But this project, something totally lame SI wanted him to do, was driving him crazy (and Pepper had threatened that if he started another project before this whatever was done, she would crucifix him with her high heels. He knew she would do it too) so there were only two ways to get out of this hell: an attack threatening human kind (preferred) or taking a break.

Since Natasha – the traitor – had told Steve that Tony had gone more than three days without sleep and ‘proper’ food (whatever that was) there was a new protocol in Avengers tower: most of his teammates bothered him throughout the day, nagging and forcing him to eat and take breaks. If he wanted to do it now to escape this project, he had Steve Roger’s puppy eyes as a defense against Pepper. That would at least buy him some time.

Walking over to Bruce’s lab he thought about ways to get out of designing a glorified calculator of all thinks. Why would Pepper do that to him? Probably revenge for all the things he had put her through over the years… Still, it was unacceptable. If the people in R&D couldn’t even design a calculator they shouldn’t be working at SI.

“Bru-” The word died on Tony’s lips, when he saw the chaos in Bruce’s lab. The other genius was almost as anal retentive as one could get when it came to order in his lab and the security measures regarding it.

Tony’s heart had stopped for just a second, hammering now fast enough in his chest to dislodge the arc reactor. Taking a calming breath, he forced himself to relax. There was no Hulk shaped hole anywhere and all the glass panels were still intact so that probably meant that this wasn’t the green beans handiwork.

That was so much worse though. Bruce didn’t like anger. He didn’t even like to show irritation. If he did this…

What if he didn’t? Had he been taken? No, that couldn’t... Fear constricted Tony’s airways and he almost choked on an inhale.

“Jay?” There was panic in his voice, too loud and clear.

“Dr. Banner asked me to-“

“Override code: Stark, Anthony.”

“Very well, Sir. Dr. Banner is still in his laboratory. It seems that he is having a panic attack.”

Fuck. No, no, no, no. Fuck. This could kill him. It probably would. Clenching his hands to fists, he inhaled, holding it for five, before exhaling.

He wasn’t cut out for this. He barely dealt with his own panic attacks. Hell, he most often didn’t! But if he did, it was mostly because Rhodey or Bruce talked him through them. Fuck.

He couldn’t have cared less if he tried that this was the person carrying the Hulk inside. Hulk liked him. Sure, Hulk during a panic attack would most likely not recognize him, but Tony didn’t care about that.

The problem here was, that he wasn’t good enough to help Bruce. He wasn’t calm, he wasn’t collected and he was terrible with emotions.

Bracing himself, Tony opened the door to the lab, forcing his breath to be steady.

“It’s me Bruce. I would ask if it’s okay that I’m coming in, but I’m not leaving, so that would be stupid, right?”

Oh god, he was already babbling. This was doomed right from the start. Bruce deserved so much better.

“I’m coming over.” Where ever that was.

He rounded the table, avoiding all the fallen pieces of glass and fluids. It took him sometime to see the man that could blend into almost any wall he wished to. Right now, he looked like a terrified kid rather than a renowned scientist.

Bruce was pressed into the far corner of the room, his knees to his chest, breathing heavily and shaking like a leaf.

“Go away.”

The words were barely recognizable as such and sounded more like the desperate rasping of a suffocating man. 

“Nope.” Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he walked closer, letting himself sink to the floor in front of Bruce. Far enough away to not crowed him and close enough to be there in a matter of heartbeats. And right now, that would be nanoseconds, because his heart was working overtime.

“Not safe.” He rasped.

“The glass is over there, we’re safe.”

“No.”

“Sure, we are.” Keeping his voice calm and steady took not as much out of Tony as he would have guessed. He had been trained from a young age to keep his emotions under wrap and he could bullshit his way through almost any situation, no problem. His only Achilles heel were real emotions. Honesty. And with Bruce there was either sarcasm that the other could see through or honesty.

So right now, he chose silence. He couldn’t do emotions. And he was sure Bruce couldn’t either.

“Tony-”

“Right here, Bruce.”

“Leave.” He panted.

“Not happening.”

“Dangerous.” The words Bruce gasped sounded painful. There was the slight growl of the Hulk in it, too.

“I told you-” 

“Know better.”

“So much better.” He agreed readily. “That’s why I’m staying.”

“Idiot,” Bruce muttered and there was agony in there and fear.

“Genius. I can even prove it.” Tony forced a smile on his lips and in his voice. He relaxed his body further. He really was no good at all with this.

“What do you need?”

“Alone.” Bruce didn't whine, so that sound wasn't a whine.

“I don’t believe you. You know what? I know you adore me and my voice, and really why wouldn’t you, so I’m just going to talk, alright?” Silence was overrated anyway.

“Go away.”

“Not going to happen.” He leaned a little forward, trying to see Bruce’s face, but it was still hidden behind the crossed arms that rested on his knees.

“You know why I came here? I wanted to ask you to take a break with me. Can you believe it? Pepper is trying to make me go insane. I have no clue why. She is CEO already, sure she will inherit a quarter of my stock holds when I die, but not if I go crazy. It would be easier for her to just outright kill me. No jury would convict her either. For all the shit I put her through she would probably even get a medal if she did kill me, so-”

Bruce hunched even more in on himself, the violent shudders getting even worse and Tony would have loved nothing more, than stabbing himself right about now. Fuck, he was a disaster.

Changing tracks, he focused on the other main topic that popped into his head: food. Because that was a topic people discussed, right?

“Never mind, I thought about getting out to eat and who would I rather take with me than my science bro.” Stopping for breath, he decided he had to do more. Rhodey always did it for him. Bruce did it sometimes, so it would help right? Couldn’t be worse than his obnoxious babbling at least.

“I’m going to touch your knee, okay?” Waiting for almost one whole of his frantic heartbeats, he pushed himself closer, putting his almost shaking hand on Bruce’s knee. Emotions sucked. Who even approved of the concept? It was a terrible design flaw! Like crying! Hey, when these squishy beings feel small and vulnerable, their eyes are going to leak salt water as a sign to anyone around that they really are sad and vulnerable! And to top it all off, because of it they won’t be able to see or breath easily. Perfect. Mass production, please!

As soon as his hand connected with Bruce’s knee, the other genius went rigid.

“Breathe, Bruce. You’re always telling me to breathe.”

Bruce moved, as if he wanted to get farther away and Tony was on the edge of panicking himself. Why couldn’t he be more helpful? And why the fuck would he make a situation like this about himself? Because he was a narcissistic asshole, of course.

“Come on, Bruce, you can do it. Sometimes even I can do it, so it should be a piece of cake for you.” He coaxed the other man, praying to a god he didn’t believe in to please help Bruce.

“…afraid…” It was barely a whisper.

“We all are sometimes.”

“You.” 

“Hell, you know I’m afraid of a shit tone of things.” Should he list it? He didn’t want to, but he would list it all. It would start with feelings, failing, his father, no, bad topic, too close for Bruce-

“Of me.” The pain in that statement was almost too much for Tony to stomach.

“What?” Tony looked at Bruce, perplexed. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Hear your heartbeat.” Bruce hissed. Could be he didn’t get enough oxygen or he was getting pissed. Tony was pretty sure he was pissed.

“Feel you shaking.”

“That’s rich coming from you right now.” Tony answered, because he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut.

“You’re afraid.” There was agony in that statement and self-hatred. A combination Tony was very familiar with. 

“Not of you.”

“Liar.”

Yep, Bruce was angry alright. That was good. Anger was an emotion Tony could handle so much better than vulnerability. Sure, it also held the potential that the Other Guy would visit, but that would be infinitely better than sitting here talking feelings.

“I am, but I’m not afraid of you, Bruce.”

“You are!”

“I’m afraid of messing up!” Tony hissed back. “I’m the last person that should be here. You know I’m the worst with this whole shit but you need help and don’t even try to deny it! You always tell me to let you help me, so suck it up buttercup, we’re doing this!”

Great Tony, threaten the guy with the panic attack. God, if he was any shittier at this he would probably tell him to just stop panicking.

“You know I don’t have the faintest fucking clue what to do right now, so we’re winging it. We always do. We’re a good team, Brucey, so we’ll wing this too. I always tell Cap that all those elaborate plans are way too complicated anyways. We lose so much time sitting around thinking about stuff to do.”

That was a self-burn. He knew it. He almost waited for Steve to materialize out of thin air to scream ‘ _Hypocrite!_ ’ at him.

“It’s better to take action, so that’s what we’re going to do. We’ll work on this whole breathing crap because I heard somewhere that it’s a hobby humans shouldn’t quit. Although it would be interesting to know how long you would- but not right now.” He interrupted himself. Keep yourself together Stark, you can wonder how long the Hulk can hold his breath another time, like when Bruce is not having a panic attack. God, what was wrong with him?

“You know what Rhodey said the other day? That I wouldn’t see love if it hit me in the face. Just because Steve miscalculated one punch and got me. You remember, of course.” It had been Bruce who had forced Tony to put a cream on the black eye after Steve had dragged him up, fuzzing as if he had killed Tony. It had barely been a concussion.

“I don’t even know why he was laughing so hard when I told him it wasn’t swollen shut. It hadn’t been or Captain Spangles would have dragged me to the infirmary.” Or he would have tried.

“Maybe he just wanted to make fun of me. He also told me I should just adopt Peter. As if that would go over well. I’m still surprised he talks to me, that May lets me see him at all and to be honest, that he is still alive.”

“…unbelievable...” Bruce muttered. It was more exasperated than pained or rasping, so Tony counted it as a win. To be honest, he would have counted anything as a win (aside from crying. But in that case he probably would have a panic attack himself).

“I know, right? It’s the stupidest idea ever. He isn’t a genius like us, but he can think himself out of a cardboard box. I thought better of him too.”

“Unbelievable.” Little by little Bruce’s shoulders relaxed. He still hid his face, but everything about him seemed to loosen a little.

“I knew you would agree with me. I’m not father material! I’m barely stable enough to-” Nope, not going there. “- care for Dum-E, let alone a living breathing Spiderling. Goodness, could you think about all the heinous thinks that could happen?”

“Happiness?”

“Don’t make fun of me, I’m trying here.” Biting his tongue hard, he held back a curse. Great, Stark, make the man with a guilt complex rivaling your own feel guilty. Could he be a bigger asshole?

“But it’s not too bad, right?” Shut up, Stark! You’re here to comfort Bruce not the other way around!

“I mean, it’s okay if it’s bad. Can be the worst. It’s okay. I mean it isn’t of course, but- I’m here. Yep. I’m here and shutting up because even I just grew annoyed with my voice and isn’t that a miracle all of its own? I would have never- shutting up right now.” Pressing his lips together to not let out another sound, Tony wished for the earth to open and swallow him whole. Or another kidnapping. Seriously, couldn’t those assholes have a little better timing? Chloroform sounded heavenly right about now.

Focusing on his hand on Bruce’s knee, he cautiously patted the other man. Physical contact was hard for both of them, but Tony knew how much it helped him to feel a steadying warmth of someone he trusted with his life. Not that Bruce had to trust him like that, but if he really wanted him gone, he would have fought a lot harder. Even though he appeared to be timid a lot of times, Bruce had learned to fend for himself – even without getting green.

Matching Bruce’s breathing was almost a habit by now. Normally it was because he was panicking and Bruce tried to calm him and- why hadn’t he done that? Fuck! Rhodey and Bruce did it both, why hadn’t he remembered? Maybe Rhodey was right when he called him an idiot.

“Sometimes…” Bruce started before trailing off. Didn’t matter to Tony, Bruce sounded almost like himself. Just tired.

Uncurling, Bruce looked up, meeting Tony’s eyes with his own. They were red rimmed and exhausted, but there was a hint of humor in him. Tony could have cried himself seeing that.

“Sometimes I ask myself if you are fooling us all or if you really are that clueless.”

“What?”

Bruce’s lips formed a pained smile. “Thank you.”

Tony patted Bruce’s knee again, awkwardly, before letting go. “Anytime.”

“You sure? You look like you’re about to faint.”

“Look in a mirror before you start badmouthing me, Brucey bear. You look like shit.”

“Panic attacks can do that.” Bruce agreed, easily.

“What do you need?” Tony asked, seriously. If necessary, he would move heaven and hell to get what Bruce needed.

“To lie down, I think.”

Jumping to his feet, Tony grabbed the other man’s hand and helped him up. “Shit, I’m getting old,” he grumbled, when his muscles protested the sudden movements.

“You could always-”

“If you invite me to some yoga crap, I’ll burn your bed to a crisp.”

“Your rational responses at any given moment are why I value you so much.”

Tony glanced at Bruce, seeing the raw honesty in his eyes. Shit, did he try for real emotions after the train wreck that had been Tony’s attempt at helping him?

“Shut up.”

“That you put yourself in situations you hate and think you are failing at, even if you aren’t, is why I love you.”

Tony stopped dead in his tracks.

“Try to take some rest and tomorrow I am going to help you with whatever it is you’re stuck on.” Bruce glanced back at him, something between a shy happiness and mirth battling with bone deep exhaustion.

Taking a step closer and only hesitating for a second, he hugged Tony. “Thank you, Tony. You really did help.”

For just a moment, Tony clutched Bruce close, exhaling harshly, before he patted him on the back and stepped back.

“Get going Bruce, we don’t have all day here. Chop chop.”

Tony would never admit to it, but he made sure Bruce actually went to his bed, nagging the other genius for a couple of minutes to change, before he relented.

Leaving Bruce’s floor to get back to his workshop – because he wouldn’t allow Bruce to work on that pathetic piece of technology – he swore to himself to not only finish the calculator, but also the next three things on his to do list, so that he could take Bruce to his favorite tea shop the next day. It would be torture for Tony, but if it made Bruce happy, it would be worth it.

(He managed to finish the next four things on his list and even finished the stupid calculator without going crazy. As he tried to kidnap Bruce right from the breakfast table, he was sent to bed by not only Bruce (the traitor) but Steve as well.)

(When he woke up a couple hours later, Steve and Bruce talked him into visiting a museum. Afterwards they went out for burgers – the only reason Tony had agreed to come along, not because he is a Sucker™. Steve, in his exuberance threw a straw in Tony’s face when he asked for a non-plastic one. Bruce couldn't stop laughing afterwards, so Tony counted it as a win, even if he didn't get the joke.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your kudos and comments. It means the world to me. Seriously. 
> 
> Thank you!


	5. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony get trapped under a building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your amazing comments! I can't express how much it means to me! Especially all of you incredible people who commented on multiple or all of the chapters! Thank you so much!!!
> 
> This one got a little angsty... be warned... and enjoy :)
> 
> *edited 24.08.2020

All this had started in a rather mundane fashion. A supervillain had declared on national television that he would take over New York and then the world, released his army of magical creatures and yada yada yada.

To be honest, Tony had been rather bored. Sure, the creatures, a mixture between squirrel, badger and butterflies of all things, were assholes, nimble and could fly, but they weren’t really dangerous. Not like the caterpillars they had to battle a couple of months ago. The best part of them? Because they were magic, they just puffed into nothing when they were killed. It was almost considered of the annoyance that was this villain, still screaming lame threats from the top of his lungs.

That all changed when Steve – the noble idiot – saved a bunch of civilians by holding up a crumbling building. Tony, as the considered teammate that he was, swooped in to help his Captain, which resulted in both of them being buried under a five-story building. That would have been nothing more than a minor inconvenience _if_ there hadn’t been three stories of basements under the building and _if_ it had a proper structure and _if_ all of it hadn’t collapsed like a house of fucking cards.

It still wouldn’t have been a big deal _if_ the Iron Man suit hadn’t been damaged and _if_ Steve hadn’t managed to shish kebab himself on five (in numbers 5) pieces of rebars.

If.

“Fuck.”

“…language…” wheezed Steve, blood trickling out of the place where he had been skewered and at least 4 cuts that Tony could see. Which wasn’t all that much. Sure, he had the night light stuck in his chest, but aside from that, it was pitch black.

When he had woken up in the darkness (he must have lost consciousness for a moment, even if he denied it vehemently when Steve asked), he had panicked, before he heard Steve’s exclamation of pain (because Steve had blacked out too and that was the important part in all of this). It had taken him a couple of minutes to reach for the manual release of the Iron Man suit, thankful for the new design that allowed him to get out of it easier in cases such like this. Silver linings.

A few of the beams that should have stopped the building from crumbling like a sandcastle had held long enough for the worst of the collapse before falling themselves.

Tony hated it. Not only that caves were something that terrified him still, he could hear movement in the debris. This wouldn’t hold for long, especially if the squirbadflies (Clint’s idea, not his) would fight on top of them.

All these thoughts ran through Tony’s head while he tried to connect to Jarvis and the rest of his team (no such luck), while he moved over to Cap as carefully as he could.

The moment he had seen the damage he was sure it had to be a nightmare. Steve’s uniform was already drenched with his blood. Two of the rebars were sticking out of his right thigh, one out of his lower stomach, one out of his right arm and the last was sticking out of between his ribs. It was a miracle neither his heart or lung was pierced, or at least Tony hoped it wasn’t.

Deploying all the knowledge he had gathered over the years about first aid, Tony knelt beside Steve, trying to help as much as he could. There wasn’t much, aside from bandaging the badly bleeding cut on his forehead with a piece of his under suit he ripped from his sleeve and trying to stabilize his obviously broken left arm.

“…you hurt?” Steve rasped, but there was no whistle to his words, just a layer of exhausted pain. Everything considered, that was probably the best they could hope for.

“If you really just asked me if _I_ am hurt while you look like a mistreated voodoo doll, I will not be responsible for my reactions.” Tony growled, biting back a cough. Dust was everywhere, coating his skin and tongue. Like sand. It wasn't. He knew it wasn't, even if it was hard to remember. He focused at least a third of his brainpower to keep breathing calmly. Or as calmly as possible.

Actually, everything but hyperventilating would be pretty good. Right now, it was only slightly elevated. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

“I need to know-”

“The only thing you _need_ , Cap, is getting out of here pronto.”

“Are you hurt?” There it was, Cap’s stubbornness, demanding that he would be obeyed. Tony didn’t let it bother him on good days and this wasn’t a good day.

Raising an eyebrow and leaning back slightly, he huffed. “Raise your hand if you’re in charge.” Lazily, he raised his right hand, looking down at Steve, who could barely move a finger.

That didn’t stop Steve from glaring up at him. There was real anger in it. But also pain and fear.

“I’m fine, Steve. Just a little banged up. You on the other hand-”

“I’m trapped.”

“Not what I would have said, but yeah, sure. You’re trapped.”

“Can you get out?”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “No. But even if I could-”

“Have you looked?”

“We’re trapped.”

He coughed, again.

“Are you sure?” Steve moved, as if he wanted to stand up and look around himself. Immediately, he hissed in pain, panting, which had to hurt as hell, too.

“I’m sure.” Tony gritted out. Without thinking about it, he had moved closer, laying his hands on Steve’s right shoulder and hip, trying to stabilize the idiot.

He wasn’t sure, because he hadn’t looked around, but chances were that every movement could bury them deeper and he was not about finding out which of the lose stones were the one you needed to touch to kill them both. Also, he wouldn’t leave Steve here.

“There must be something...”

“There isn’t.”

Steve looked up at him, his blue eyes showing the pain that he didn’t allow to appear on his face, aside from his deathly pale complexion. Or was it the dust?

“You have to get out of here.” His words were barely about a whisper, filled with desperation and pleading. It took Tony almost ten seconds to calm enough down to react to that without screaming at him. His voice still trembled with fury when he answered.

“ _We_ have to get out.”

“I can’t move. You-”

“Need to find a way to get you out, I know. I’m working on it.” Tony ignored the desperation in Steve’s voice as well as the one clawing at his gut, tearing through his heart and freezing his blood. It wouldn’t help. Desperation was poison to rational thought and that’s what they needed right now. Rationality. Clear thinking. All the thinks Tony liked to pretend he had. Most of the time he didn’t. Right now? Right now, he was holding on to the last sliver of pretense he had with both hands. He knew it wouldn’t be enough. Judging by the blood flow Steve had maybe thirty minutes before he would lose consciousness. Then maybe ten more before…

“Tony.”

The finality in Cap’s voice was absolute. It left no room for discussions. No room for arguments. He would declare the law and heaven and hell had to follow.

Tony wouldn’t.

“Spare your breath, Rogers. Arguing won’t help us.”

“We don’t have to argue, if you-”

“Not gonna happen. Shut up.”

“Tony, I-”

“No.” Tony leaned forward, trying to convey to Steve – preferably without screaming – that he wouldn’t leave him, could never leave him. Instead, he put his weight on the battered body and pressing Steve down on the rebars.

The scream of pain that escaped Steve’s lips would hound Tony for the rest of his life. It pierced his heart, stealing his breath and spread icy cold through his veins, almost freezing him from the inside. He jumped back, fighting against tears. The last thing he wanted was to cause Steve pain.

“I’m sorry.” He rasped, terrified at making another wrong move.

“’s okay…” Steve slurred. Tears were leaking out of his eyes and wasn’t that the real kicker? Tony had reduced Captain America to tears. With his touch. While 5 fucking rebars sticking out of him and a crashed building on top of him couldn’t. Way to go Stark.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” Tony pressed his lips together, forcing himself to calm. To ignore the sheer panic he was feeling. Steve had to survive. If it was the last thing Tony ever did, so be it, but he would get him out of here and to a hospital. Steve would be fine. He just had to get his shit together, stop hurting him and-

“Tony?”

“Right here, Steve.” Tony shuffled a little closer, while being very careful to not touch him again. He couldn’t hurt him farther. He couldn’t… He wouldn’t.

“I’m-” He started, when there was a muffled crash, before the rubble started to move.

Without hesitating, Tony threw himself over Steve, protecting at least his head and upper body with his own. He of course managed to jostle Steve’s broken arm, resulting in a pained whimper, but there hadn’t been time to be more careful.

Around them, the rubble shifted. Tony was hit in the back of the head, blinding him with white hot pain for a second, but aside from another hit to his shoulder, hip, lower back and left leg, he was fine. It could have been a lot worse.

More dust filled the air and Tony coughed, desperately chanting in his head that it was dust. Dust! Not sand. Just dust. Coughing again, he knew at the end of the day his reduced lung capacity wouldn't care for either - but the panic attack already knocking on his front door cared very much.

Looking between his arms to Steve’s pained face, he asked, “you okay?” Without waiting for an answer Tony let his eyes flash to his lower body that he hadn’t been able to protect. With the new angle, the light of the Arc reactor wasn’t enough to actually see much. There might be some rocks on him that hadn’t been there before, but Tony couldn’t be sure. Steve hadn’t screamed in pain, so it could be this time he had been spared. Or it was only Tony who could hurt him bad enough to-

“You’re bleeding!” Steve’s voice, filled with pain and devastation, now held a new wave of panic in it. At least now his voice was louder. Silver linings. Silver linings everywhere.

“I’m fine.”

“Your head is bleeding, Tony! Why-”

“You’re bleeding everywhere, Cap. I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Tony glanced down at his face that was perfectly illuminated by the pale blue glow of his mechanical heart. Steve looked terrible. He was white as a sheet. The only touches of color were the splashes of red showing off how much of his life had already trickled out of him.

“Tony…”

Ignoring the pleading voice and the soft touches of fingertips, Tony tried to move back, just to find out that he couldn’t. His back, sore and kind of numb, bumped against uneven rock.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“Our little haven just got smaller.” Tony forced a smile on his lips, biting back another cough and looked down in the bright blue eyes of Steve. They were clouded by pain and exhaustion, but his spark, his fire was still there, burning like a lighthouse luring Tony closer.

Tony now was between a rock and a hard place – metaphorically and literally. Aside from being trapped between Steve and the crumbling ceiling – he was also trapped in what to address next. There were only two thoughts left in his oh so brilliant brain: a) unimaginable horror at being stuck under rocks, possibly dying in a cave and b) his feelings for a certain super soldier and master tactician.

Both paralyzed him. Fleeting thoughts popped into his head, like fireworks: How long could he hold himself up like this? How long until Steve would bleed out? When would the rubble shift again? Would it bury them completely? What if Steve was conscious when Tony fell on him? What if Tony hurt him more? What if he kissed him – actually impossible with the way they were stuck, but would he do it if he could? What if this was the last time he saw him? What if they weren’t saved? What if Steve died?

“Tony?”

“You’re okay, Cap. The others will come. They’ll get you out and to a hospital.”

“…us.”

Tony closed his eyes, fighting against the dark that was coming closer, against the spots dancing in front of his eyes. Against the mind-numbing terror that was the thought of losing Steve. The heathen that put milk in the bowl before his cereal, who drank coffee black even though he liked it better with milk and sugar. Who would actually stop and help old ladies to cross the street. Who had cried during the movie Up. Who listened to Tony even when he was talking boring nonsense. Who hadn’t asked him to shut up basically since he moved in, rather sitting there, listening politely with that indulging smile of his that Tony loved almost as much as his full body laughs. Who Tony loved.

And Tony couldn’t even protect him.

“Yeah, sure.” He forced levity in his voice, trying to relax just a little, to cover his slip up. “But I’m not the one with a time limit.”

Steve scrunched his face up and Tony was about to ask where it hurt even though there was nothing he could do aside from holding himself up, when he realized Steve tried to glare at him. His eyes a little too unfocused, lines of pain distorting the expression, but yeah, that was Steve pouting.

“You’re hurt too.”

“You are kidding me, right?” It was almost a laugh. Tony had seen some shit in his days. A lot of things others wouldn’t believe even when they witnessed them and Steve still managed to surprise him with his pure earnestness and stubbornness.

“If we… When we get out, the serum will take care of me. You on the other hand-”

“Are a squishy human, yeah, I know, but news flash, the squishy human isn’t the butterfly stuck on some piece of wall, so you might-”

“You’re bleeding.”

It was the tone of his voice, the way Steve clipped his words that made Tony listen. He couldn’t be sure – and most likely it was a mixture of wishful thinking, terror and the lack of oxygen – but it almost seemed like Steve was more concerned for Tony than he was for himself. Which was ridiculous. Of course, Cap was more concerned with someone else than himself that was just the noble hero-idiot he was. Still, there was something Tony couldn’t put his finger on, that seemed off. Different somehow.

“Yes, I am.” Tony neglected to remind Steve that he was bleeding, too. That it couldn’t be much longer before he would lose consciousness and leave Tony alone in the dark.

He would lose it then.

“I’m sorry.”

Tony focused again on Steve, forcing himself to ignore his racing thoughts already trying to push himself into a full-blown panic attack. Right now, he could be here for Steve. He would be here for Steve, as long as Steve…

“I’m terrible for thinking it, but-” A cough rattled Steve, and Tony almost threw up, watching the agony on his face, while Tony tried to keep still, to not aggravate Steve’s tortured body anymore. The whimper that escaped him was almost as bad as his scream. If Tony was lucky he would die here and wouldn’t have to live with the memories.

“Breathe, Steve.” His own voice was calm and soothing even if he himself could barely breathe. Tony had no clue at all how he did it, but he sounded not at all like he was screaming on the inside.

Ignoring his former decision, he moved his left arm enough to push his wrist between Steve’s fingers. If he could, he would move soothing circles over his shoulders, hold his hand and try to calm him, knowing that Steve craved touch almost as much as Tony himself.

Steve’s fingers flexed around Tony’s wrist painfully, but it barely registered in his mind. What did register was his warmth. The reassuring _proof_ that Steve was still there. That he clung to Tony like he wanted to cling to him – even if Steve just did it in a haze of pain and dread.

“I shouldn’t and you can hate me for it but… I’m glad you’re here. With me,” Steve whispered. Barely loud enough for Tony to hear.

“I’m glad I’m here, too.” It was the truth. Tony was glad Steve wasn’t alone. He had reoccurring nightmares of the ice, of drowning and being alone, Tony knew from slips when they met during those nights.

Steve’s hand constricted around his wrist, shifting his bones. The only reason that bothered Tony was that if his wrist broke, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself upright any longer.

“I’m sorry.” The words were slurred, as if Steve had said his piece. As if he had already accepted defeat.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m tired.”

A cold shower ran through Tony. The unimaginable terror that had clawed at his stomach surged into his throat, suffocating him, shredding his heart and poisoned his thoughts.

It didn’t matter.

“You can sleep. I’m here.” The words were dead on his tongue. He wanted to beg. To plead. To scream. To fight. He didn’t.

“Tony…”

“It’s okay, Cap. When you wake up, we’ll be out of here. Have I ever let you down?”

“Never.” There was fight back in Steve’s voice, defiance. Even if it was a lie.

“See, no reason to worry.” Aside from the blood damping Tony’s knees. Aside from the blood pooling around his hands. Aside from Steve’s erratic heartbeat. Aside from the life leaving his body.

“Promise?”

Steve had to be delusional. He had slipped further away while Tony had given in to his own stupid panic and hadn’t focused on Steve.

“I promise, Steve.” They would be out of here. Or he wouldn’t wake up. And Tony knew, their team would find them. Maybe not in time to save them, but they would find them. They always did.

“What about you?” Steve’s words were more slurred already, his voice weaker, but he still had his spark, was still trying to protect a teammate.

“I’m good.”

Coughing again, he still smiled down at Steve.

“You… don’t like…” Steve hesitated, but Tony heard the unspoken words nonetheless.

“It’s not really a cave, is it?” His own breath came in short succession, belying his valiant effort at comfort. “And you’re here.”

“Yeah… I’m here.”

“Sure, you are.” What Tony would give to be buried here on his own.

He watched Steve close his eyes. Moments later, the grip around his wrist slackened and he wanted to scream. He didn’t.

He didn’t give in. Keeping his position, when tears burned in his eyes. When they fell.

He didn't give in when the coughing was almost all he did, trying to get oxygen but breathing in only dust and stubbornly holding himself up even though his arms almost gave out under him.

He didn’t give in when breathing became even more of a challenge due to the panic attack almost taking over.

He didn’t give in when the rubble moved again and natural light flashed in small beams through the cracks.

He did give in when there were hands on his shoulders, moving him upwards.

-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-

“… shouldn’t be here. He needs-”

“If you try to move him, no one will ever find your body.”

“Agent Romanoff-”

“Are you seriously trying to argue with the Black Widow? Do you have a death wish? You might need some help.”

Was that Clint? The false concern was so thick, Tony barely recognized his voice.

“He is in critical condition. He needs-”

“To know that Steve is safe.”

Because he hadn’t been.

Tony lurched upwards – or at least he tried to. He barely moved before hands were all over him, trying to push him down.

“Stop, you’re hurting yourself!”

“Steve?”

“He is fine.”

Bruce wouldn’t lie to Tony, he knew that. Forcing his eyes open, he looked into brown ones without a tinge of green. In fact, they were calm, almost relieved.

“…where…” Tony’s breath came in short huffs. The hands on him were Bruce’s, Clint’s and Natasha’s. They were safe.

“To your right. He is fine, still out of it, but he’ll be fine in a couple of days.”

Tony followed his nod. True to Bruce’s word, Steve was laying in the bed beside him, just far enough away to let Nat stand between them. Protecting both of them.

“Oh. Good.”

“Yeah, keep calm, Tin Man, your Captain is fine.” Clint’s face was almost split by the grin on his lips, but Tony didn’t pay him any mind.

His eyes slipped close again, knowing Steve was alive. He hadn’t failed him.

-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-

“Tony?”

Tony woke with a start, trying to sit up, hissing in pain when his body refused to obey. It didn’t matter. The anguish in Steve’s voice was more important. Something was wrong.

“Steve?” Tony gasped, already turning himself towards Steve, looking at the clearly distraught man. Realizing he had an oxygen mask in front of his face, he took it off, breathing carefully. 

“Oh, thank god.” Steve exhaled, a wet laugh escaping his mouth. “I thought…” He made a sound that could have been a sob. Probably wasn’t but Tony would never hold it against him. Steve must be hooked up on the super soldier approved stuff. So practically tranquilizers for elephants.

“Don’t worry about lil’ old me.” Tony scoffed, trying to ease the look of devastation off of Steve’s face. “How are you?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “I’m fine.”

“Great, so we’re both fine.” Tony smiled, honest alleviation sneaking into his expression.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Tony tried to make himself more comfortable without taking his eyes off of Steve.

“For…” Steve stopped, as if he didn’t have the words.

“You would have done the same.”

“Of course! Tony, I-”

“Then you have nothing to apologize for. Can’t have Captain America be a hypocrite, can we?”

A smile tugged at Steve’s lips. “I suppose we can’t.”

“We really can’t.” Exhaling, he let his eyes close again. Steve wasn’t the only one drugged to the gills. The only reason Tony was coherent at all were his many experiences with appearing sober while hopped up on drugs or alcohol (before Iron Man) and pain killers… and sometimes alcohol (after Iron Man).

“Tony?” There was the edge of panic in Steve’s voice again and Tony couldn’t stand for it. Actually, he was almost a 100% sure he couldn’t stand at all right now.

“Relax, Steve. The mere human amongst us needs some sleep.” He opened his eyes to smile at him, nice and calm (and maybe a little bit too open). “I didn’t get to take a nap earlier.”

A small smile was battling with some righteous indignation on Steve’s face, making his blue eyes shine even brighter. God, Tony was a Sucker™ for Steve Rogers.

“Yesterday, actually.” Was what he was settled on, still a crease between his eyebrows but also a small smile on his lips.

“Seriously?” Tony groaned. “Pepper is going to have my hide this time.”

“You are injured, I don’t…”

“I was supposed to be at a meeting yesterday evening with a Japanese investor that she had rescheduled four times already. She swore, she would skin me alive if-”

“She won’t.”

If Tony didn’t know better – and just for a second, he indulged the fantasy – he thought he heard a growl in Steve’s voice, low and dangerous.

“Yeah? Captain America is going to fight _The Pepper Potts_ for me?” Tony smiled, trying to hide the foolish grin that wanted to stretch his lips.

“If I have to? Yes.”

Tony’s breath caught in his throat seeing the earnestness in Steve’s eyes. His expression was set in a way only Steve could look, as if he just changed the rules of the universe. As if he decided it to be real and _knew_ reality would accept it as truth.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Always, Tony.”

(Steve and Tony left the hospital together two days later. Steve was almost as good as new, only a little tender where he had been shish kebabbed. Tony still had a laceration on the back of his head, although the concussion was mostly healed, his shoulder and leg were still tender and hurt if he moved, his skin was littered with bruises and the doctor had warned him that, with all the dust he had inhaled, there was the possibility of a lung infection. As if Tony cared about any of it.)

(Back in the tower Steve followed Tony around as if he was afraid the tower would try and attack Tony. His guilty consciousness all over his face whenever Tony faltered in a movement, or he saw one of Tony’s bruises. It got even worse when he saw Tony’s wrist with the finger shaped bruise he left behind. After the third day it got so bad that Tony had to enlist the help of the spy twins to escape the worried super soldier.)

(It lasted for half an hour, before he answered Steve’s frantic call when he couldn’t find him after making them both something to eat. Tony really was a Sucker™.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated!
> 
> Stay tuned for the last chapter :)


	6. Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony isn't sick. It's just a cough!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what happened but this chapter is over 6000 words long... 
> 
> Thank you all so much for all the lovely comments and kudos. It means the world to me.
> 
> I have the next parts of the series already planed. So if you liked this, stay tuned. There will be many more shenanigans and feelings :D

“I’m going crazy!”

“I think you’re overreacting, Tones.”

“I am not!” Tony glared at the screen showing his _ungrateful_ best friend. “I’m telling you, it’s their plan! No one needs that much sleep and food and fucking social interaction!”

Rhodey just laughed. The asshole.

“Steve barely leaves my side! I’m still waiting to wake up to see him hovering over me.”

“Wouldn’t you like that?”

“First off, if he starts to make an Edward I will stake him-”

“Was that a Twilight reference?”

“-and second of, he only does it because he feels guilty.”

“Unbelievable.”

“I know it is! I did it because it was the right thing to do!”

“And you love him.”

“That’s beside the point, honey bear, so shut up about it.”

“Sir, if I may-”

“You may not, Jay. You will just stab me in the back.” Inhaling deeply, he almost cursed himself when the cough he was trying to suppress for the last couple of minutes broke free, shaking his body and burning his lungs.

“Tones?” Rhodey’s demeanor changed in a heartbeat, the easy-going smile replaced with concern. “Do you have a cold?”

“No, I’m just allergic to both of your nonsense.” Tony quipped back, breathing calmly.

“Are you sure?” The question was asked calmly, but the weight behind it was almost enough to crush Tony. It was a question Rhodey asked because Tony hadn’t been fine. Just three weeks ago he had almost died, his reduced lung capacity and crappy immune system made sure even a common cold could be quite dangerous to him – even if Tony would never acknowledge that – and ever since the whole palladium thing Rhodey was so goddamn suspicious. He was almost as bad as Steve, although Tony could accept the hovering better from his honey bear. He did it because he inexplicably loved Tony. Steve did it because he felt guilty the squishy human had gotten hurt while it protected him.

Tony, of course, would do it all again in a heartbeat, but it had gotten hard to let Steve take care of him and not… dream about what else it could mean. It didn’t, he knew that. He was fine with Steve being his friend. It was enough.

“It’s just a simple cough. I’m fine, honey bear.”

“What’s your temperature?”

“Normal human temperature. Stop worrying.”

“When it comes to you? Never.”

From anyone else Tony would have known it was a reproach. It would be said with acid that took time to corrode through his emotions and hit where it hurt. When Rhodey said it, it was a promise of love. Rhodey had stayed by his side when it would have been far easier to leave and he never did.

“I’m touched, really.” Tony huffed, trying – unsuccessfully – to hide his real smile.

“If you were, you would let that super soldier of yours take care of you.”

“He is not my super soldier.”

“Whatever you say Tony.”

It never was what Tony said.

Leaning back in his chair, Tony huffed ones more, ignoring the twinge of pain when he inhaled.

“I’m going to be in New York next month.”

“Great, so you’ll come to bother me, too?”

“Or set someone’s head straight.”

“Oh, come on, what did I do this time?” Tony didn’t even react when he heard the doors to his workshop open. In the last weeks his workshop had become a second living room to the Avengers – or at least that was what Tony tried to argue whenever his annoying teammates met up here to bully him.

“You’ll have time to do something until then, I’m sure. But I actually meant Captain Rogers.”

“What did I do, Lieutenant Colonel?”

Before The Incident Tony would have been annoyed that Steve just appeared and disturbed the precious time he had with his best friend. Right now, he was just exasperated. Steve had granted him almost half an hour on his own. For the clingy soldier that was pretty good.

“I think you know _exactly_ what I’m talking about.” Rhodey said, pointedly, his smile getting the sharp edge that told everyone with at least one brain cell that they were on thin ice.

Tony glanced at Steve, seeing the Captain almost take a step back, his face losing most of his color. “I-”

“As I just told Tones, I’ll be over in a couple of weeks. We are going to have a talk then.”

Tony had to bite back laughter, as he saw Steve’s hand twitch, as if he wanted to salute. The muttered, “Yes, Lieutenant Colonel,” was hilarious on its own.

“See you Tones, and take it easy. I mean it. Or I’ll send Pepper after you.”

“She is always out to get me, you know that! Besides, for the millionth time: I’m fine.”

“Aha. Heard that before. Love you, Tones.”

“Love you too, platypus.”

Rhodey ended the call and Tony sighed.

“What did he mean?” Steve looked Tony over, a worry line between his eyebrows.

“How should I know? I barely know when _I’m_ in trouble.”

“Not that.” A slight red tinge colored Steve’s cheeks and Tony was about to ask what that was supposed to mean, when Steve ruined everything. “He said you should take it easy. Are you okay?” Honest worry laced his words and Tony groaned.

“I’m fine.”

“He didn’t seem to believe you.”

“That’s because he is an asshole.”

“He knows you.”

“Yeah, since I was a little shit in MIT. The only reason he could put up with me for that long is because he is an asshole.” Tony grinned up at the frowning man.

“You are easy to _put up with_.” Steve said pointedly, his face setting in one of his default expressions: rightful annoyance.

“Hah!” Tony laughed out loud. “Jarvis, send that snipped to Pepper. Actually, set it as her ringtone!”

“Tony.”

“Seriously, Cap, you have the patience of a Saint most of the time, but-”

“I mean it!”

“I know you do.” Tony smiled up at him, real emotions sneaking into his voice and expression. He meant it now. But aside from Rhodey – the exception to the rule – Pepper – who got plenty annoyed with Tony – and Happy – who was annoyed with everyone – no one had put up with him in close quarters for more than a few months. Hell, sometimes he all but waited for all of them to snap.

Come to think of it, they might have snapped. That could explain why they kept bothering him even weeks after he got out of the hospital. His wrist was almost as good as new, his bruises were barely visible anymore, he didn’t get a lung infection and still they haunted him to eat, sleep and participate in more than the weekly movie night. It seemed counterproductive to try and spend more time with him in that case, but all the Avengers were nuts so it was possible.

“You sure, you’re okay?”

“Yes. Positive. One hundred percent A-Okay.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Steve said it with a smile, but the worry was still there.

“I coughed, okay. Rhodey always gets overprotective when I cough. He is a freaking mother hen.”

“I thought he was an asshole?”

“I’ll tell him you said that.” Tony grinned up at the blue eyes he wanted to drown in – bad choice of words. “Also, he can be both. He is an asshole and a mother hen.”

Steve still looked worried and even if Tony’s insides fluttered happily at that, he tried to pin all those butterflies down – another poor choice of words, what was happening to him? – because Cap cared about his friends. It was nothing more, just guilt and responsibility.

“Don’t worry.”

“Last time you said that, you bled from a head wound and thought we were going to die.” It was barely more than a whisper, it still managed to chill Tony to his bones. They hadn’t talked about it aside from assuring each other they were fine.

“Yeah, well, that were special circumstances.” It should have been flippant. It wasn’t.

Steve looked down at the floor, his shoulders hunched, a haunted look on his face.

Without thinking about it, Tony reached out to him, squeezing is hand lightly. “It’s okay. We’re fine. I’m fine. Just a cough, I promise.”

“You’re sure?”

How could a guy like Steve, solid muscle, a giant of a man who could kill you with a snap of his wrist if he wanted to look so lost and afraid?

“Promise. You’ll be the first one to know if that changes.” Tony smiled, lightly. He didn’t mean that he would tell him – he wouldn’t – but Steve breathed down his neck almost 24/7 by now, so he would be hard pressed to keep it secret. Not that it was impossible. Actually-

“Okay.” Determination burned in Steve’s eyes, pinning Tony to his chair. Oh fuck. What had he done?

“What- ah why did you come down here? I was fed and watered like an hour ago. Not even you would think I needed-”

“Pepper called to remind us of the Gala tonight.”

Tony groaned, flopping back into his chair. “I don’t wanna go.”

“Are you feeling unwell?” Steve asked pointedly and for a second Tony thought about taking that out. If he were honest he might admit that he had a headache. And body aches. And a pretty bad cough. And breathing hurt. But he was a dirty liar that lied. Also, Pepper would kill him if it wasn’t at least pneumonia or the plague.

“Nope, I’m good.”

“Good.” Steve looked at him a moment longer, as if he could extract the truth from Tony if he stared long enough. Fat chance.

“See you in an hour.”

“Sure.”

Steve left and Tony groaned again.

“May I say-”

“You may not.”

“As always a pleasure, Sir.” Jarvis said, annoyance clear in his voice. In most other situations Tony would have marveled over his youngest AI and his incredible range of human emotions. Right now, it just pissed him off.

“I’m fine.”

“Wishful thinking doesn’t make a lie become the truth.”

“I’m fine.” Tony gritted out, again. He should just record himself and play it in a loop. He pushed himself out of his chair, swaying minutely while he tried to get the dizziness under control.

The silence was answer enough. Tony could have sworn he felt the disapproval like waves crushing over him. Lucky for him, he had learned to live with it decades ago.

Getting up to his floor was easy. Taking a shower wasn’t. The warm water felt too hot on his skin and worsened the dizziness. It took Tony almost twenty minutes to clad himself in one of his impeccable Armani suits, shivering throughout the whole time. Dressing himself to the nines was something he could do dead drunk. A little cough wouldn’t stop him.

As he was a liar – and a damn good one at that – he didn’t acknowledge that he felt much worse than an hour ago. He had pulled off tasks far more challenging than attending a gala under far worse conditions. He could do it. Clint, Nat und possibly Bruce would be hard to fool. Steve he just had to keep occupied with distractions.

Taking some ibuprofen out of his bathroom cabinet, he swallowed the pills dry. This should take the edge off long enough to make an appearance, fake an accident or being drunk and returning home to get to bed and hopefully sleep it off. Because – and on this Tony wouldn’t budge – it was just a cough.

“Sir.”

“I’m fine, Jay.”

There was a beat of silence. “Captain Rogers asks when you will join them.”

“Tell them… I’ll come on my own. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“As you wish, Sir.”

This could actually work. He would be there shortly after them when they were already talking to whomever was there and wanted to talk to the famous Avengers. Skipping the fifteen-minute car ride lowered his chances to be found out by one of the other Avengers considerably.

Tony sat down, just for a moment, ignoring the heaviness of his body. He could do this.

The drive over wasn’t all that exciting. To be honest, Tony didn’t remember much of it but he was fairly certain he would if anything noteworthy would have happened. Like 95% certain.

Getting out of his sports car – he didn’t remember which one it was and honestly, who cared – he was assaulted by hundreds of flashes of cameras, screams and cheers. Slipping into his media persona, Tony sauntered over the red carpet, throwing peace signs around and smiling broadly in all directions. His eyes, slightly red rimmed, well hidden behind his dark sunglasses.

“Mr. Stark!”

“Tony! Tony Stark!

“Iron Man!”

The screams all blurred together into a mean thumping in the back of his head. Nothing new. Howard had thrown him to the press the day he popped out into the world. Dancing in the spotlight was what he did. He didn’t like it. Most of the time he fucking hated it, even in the time _before_ , when he had drunk enough to not feel the pressure of all the bad press his drinking, drug use and all in all disgusting personality covered head to toe in all the media all the time. But _since_? It had gotten worse. Still, he smiled and waved, flirted and exchanged barbs. Tony Stark. Genius. Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist.

Stepping into the building, Tony sighed, ignoring the burning in his throat and the cough that wanted to worm its way out. The worst part was over. Hopefully.

“Tony.”

Tony looked up into Bruce brown eyes. The other genius stepped closer, concern clouding his face.

“You okay, Bruce?” Tony asked, trying for a smile. He knew how uncomfortable Bruce got during galas and press conferences, basically everything with a lot of people and cameras.

“You look flushed.”

Tony took a step back, keeping his smile in place. “Well, of course, Dr. Banner. You look good in a suit.”

“Tony.”

“Sorry, Brucey-bear. If I don’t start my first round soon, Pepper is going to have my hide. Get yourself something to drink. I’ll come back.” Without waiting for an answer, Tony slipped between two people he vaguely recognized as someone he probably should know and stumbled.

“Careful there, Stark.” Clint, materializing out of thin air, grabbed Tony’s forearm, stabilizing him. “You okay?”

“Peachy. What are you doing here?”

“Cap said to keep an eye on you.”

“Why? Does he think I’m going to get drunk and-” Tony said, his voice dipping low and furious.

“No, asshole. He thinks you’re hiding something and looking at you-”

“I’m fine.” Tony yanked his arm back, glaring at the archer. Which probably would have been more impactful if his eyes weren’t hidden behind his sun glasses.

“You sure about that?” Clint stepped closer to Tony, his body effectively shielding him from other people. “You seem off.”

“That happens when you get pestered by your teammates to the point of-”

“You love it.”

Tony looked up, raising one of his eyebrows challengingly at Clint.

“You do. I know you do.” There was warmth in his voice. Understanding. Tony couldn’t take it.

“Whatever.” He pushed past Clint, ignoring the imploring gaze he felt on him. Just because Clint was _right_ was no reason at all to say all that. Especially not when Tony was already all over the place. And somewhere with people. People that could have overheard.

Pushing past whoever was in his way to get some space between himself and Clint, without actually wanting to go somewhere – aside from his bed but that wasn’t possible – (and maybe feeling a little bit bad), he startled when a firm grip on his wrist held him back and spun him around.

For just a second, his fight and flight response flared up – and the dizziness. The first two were always elevated when he was at these social functions, knowing full well that some of those people were able to make his life considerably more difficult if they wanted to. Seriously, supervillains were nothing to some of these _upstanding_ citizens. Not that Tony wouldn’t win against them. He would. Of course, he would. Still it would suck, cost a ton of money, time and resources.

“You’re fine.”

It took him all of a heartbeat to relax, looking into Natasha’s green eyes. Even if she wanted to kill him – chances were low as far as he knew – he had no chance against her without the suit. Hell, he wouldn’t even try.

“Finally, someone believes me.”

“Not at all.” Nat smiled at him. It was the dangerous one, the one that informed you in a polite way, that you fucked up.

“Natasha.”

“Steve is worried. We all are.”

“About what?” His voice sounded far too exhausted.

Nat raised an eyebrow in a similar manner he had done just minutes before. “You seem off since Tuesday. You eat less, appear to be more tired, you hide a cough and I’m sure a sore throat, too.”

Fucking spies.

“I had a look into your medical files.”

Fucking spies indeed.

“With your reduced-”

“Let me stop you right there.” Trying to keep his voice pleasant and low, Tony leaned a little closer, ignoring the possibility what the press would make of it, if they saw the notorious Tony Stark whispering to the Black Widow.

“You can try,” Natasha whispered back, real emotion tinging her words. “We almost lost you, Tony. We’re not going to risk you because of a cough you didn’t take seriously.”

“I’m fine.”

“Even so, can’t we be there for you?”

Tony moved back, looking into her eyes. They were open, more so than he had ever seen. The small smile playing on her lips was a mixture of hope and determination.

“You… don’t have to.”

“We want to.”

And what the hell was Tony supposed to answer to that? Hell, his head was killing him, he barely could see straight. There was no way he wouldn’t make a fool of himself.

Looking away, Tony turned on his heel, trying to get to the bathroom, just away from people, especially well-meaning team members that all seemed determined to make him lose it in front of the world press.

“Mr. Stark!” Someone in a black suite with a repulsively ugly moss green tie with white dots who Tony knew was part of some upstart tech company that Pepper had told him something or other about, stepped into his path, blocking his escape route.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Sir.”

“It is, isn’t it.” Just breathe, Stark, you can do it. You did it a thousand times before. This is nothing different. Just keep breathing. You held entire lectures drunk off your ass, this is nothing.

The man laughed, fake and with a greedy glint in his eyes. “Ms. Potts declined a meeting with you, Sir, and-”

“If she did, she had a good reason for it. If you would excuse me-”

“We are visionaries, Mr. Stark. Most people can’t understand us. We should-”

The annoyance Tony had felt was swiftly replaced by cold fury. “You think I will be able to understand your _brilliance_ when Pepper Potts can’t?”

“Yes!” The grin of the man got broader, his stance changed, getting more confident. “Ms. Potts is a good CEO as far as I heard, but she can’t compete with-”

“Pepper Potts is the best there is. If she decides to not work with you, Stark Industries won’t work with you. Actually, chances are no one is going to work with you.”

“Mr. Stark you haven’t even heard my ideas. A man of your-”

“Ms. Potts is my CEO. My superior. Her word is law. Has been ever since she was my assistant.”

The guy took a step back, finally realizing the rage Tony didn’t even try to conceal.

“I didn’t…”

“You did.” Smiling his patented Tony-Stark-Shark-Smile, he stepped into the personal space of the man he decided would never darken Pepper’s door step ever again. “Thanks for coming. You know where the door is.”

It took the asshole about a minute to realize he had been dismissed. The glare he sent Tony could have been impressive if Tony had given at least a single fuck. As it was, he looked like a pissed off fish. Gaping and moving too slow.

“I’ll make a background check.”

Tony almost startled, but could keep his reaction to himself. He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Clint’s eyes. He nodded ones. Clint looked past him, nodding ones, before glancing back at Tony.

“Don’t let Cap find you. He’ll kill all of us if he sees you like this.”

“The charming, sexy, brilliant man that I am?”

“The almost passed out idiot that we care about despite the strong reoccurring urge to strangle you… for your own good, of course.”

“You know you love me.” Tony teased.

“Do you know it?”

Taken aback, Tony cleared his throat which resulted in a painful coughing fit.

“Shit, we knew it. You idiot! Stay here, I’ll get Bruce.” Clint patted him on the back, before vanishing between people that glanced his way. Fuck.

Back to his original plan then, finding the nearest bathroom or exit. Preferably exit.

Before Tony had gotten very far, Steve stepped into his path. One look was enough to change his relived smile into an angry frown. Grabbing Tony’s wrist – and when had that become a thing? – he dragged him through the crowd, ignoring Tony’s weak attempts to get away.

Pushing a door open, Steve charged into an empty room that was probably used for conferences. In the middle stood an enormous table. Tony hadn’t time to see more, before Steve turned him with a spin and pushed him into one of the chairs. The movement was too fast, too much and Tony had to press his eyes and lips closed, fighting against the dizziness.

“Tony!” The mixture of anger, worry, disappointment and exasperation was familiar and still, it hurt.

“Tony, look at me.”

Too exhausted for a fight, he opened his eyes, to find Steve’s face on eyelevel with him. He was kneeling. His arms grabbing the armrests of Tony’s chair. It took Tony a second to realize what was different. Steve must have taken his sun glasses off without him noticing. That was a bad sign.

While Tony was still trying to figure out a response that wouldn’t a) show how weak and vulnerable he was right now b) start a fight or c) be throwing up, Steve moved his right hand to press against his forehead.

“Tony you’re burning up.” There it was again. The frustration. The disappointment.

“Can’t be. I already took ibuprofen.” It took him one heartbeat to realize his mistake. The frustration changed to burning anger.

“You lied to me!”

“It was barely more than a cough.” Tony almost whispered. He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to be sick. He didn’t want to hear Steve being angry at him.

“Before or after you took the pills?”

“Before.” Technically it had gotten a lot worse since.

The frown on Steve’s face deepened. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Then don’t ask stupid questions!” Way to go, Stark. Making it worse.

Steve exhaled forcibly, clearly trying to calm himself. He never got the chance to chew Tony out though. The door behind them was opened forcibly enough to bang into the wall, Steve spun around, ready to protect himself and Tony, when Natasha and Bruce burst into the room.

Bruce didn’t glance at Steve, or reacted when Nat closed the door, looking the room over, before stepping close to Steve, joining him in the hovering the soldier did. Now both looked over Bruce shoulder, while he took Tony’s pulse – “Too high Tony, what did you do?” – and his temperature – “Yes, I brought a thermometer, we knew something was up… 102.9, Tony? Why didn’t you say something?”

“He said he already took ibuprofen.” Steve said, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“That’s not good.” Bruce murmured. “I’ve got my stethoscope at home.” It had been a gag-gift from Tony which had backfired spectacularly.

“Do you have trouble breathing?”

“No.”

“Tony.”

“It kinda hurts, but not badly.”

“You had open heart surgery without anesthetics. After that, I don’t think you can assess pain correctly.”

“What?!” Steve yelped, losing the calm he had obviously clung to.

Tony didn’t react, instead, he glared at Bruce. “You don’t trust me?”

“With my life, the lifes of the others and the world? Completely. With your own life? Not even a little bit.”

Tony didn’t have an answer to that. Thinking was getting harder by the minute.

“I will only ask once more before I am going to drag you to the emergency room: Do you have trouble breathing?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Bruce nodded, accepting his answer. Tony didn’t know why it meant so much, but he had to hold back tears and that had to be because of the fever.

“If it changes you _have_ to tell me, you understand.”

Tony nodded, avoiding to look any longer in Bruce’s eyes, darkened by worry.

“Bruce, why…”

“Tony has reduced lung capacity and ever since the arc reactor-” Natasha started before Steve interrupted her. In any other situation Tony would have marked the calendar, right now, he was barely able to keep listening to them.

“Reduced… Tony!” Steve hissed, fury clearly in his voice.

Tony just wanted to curl into a ball and hide inside his bed. His head was killing him, his whole body ached, his throat was on fire and he just wanted to cry.

“Not now, Steve.” Natasha’s voice was cold and final.

“But-”

“Not now, Steve.” Nat hissed, and not even Steve was stubborn enough to go against Natasha when she used that tone.

“We have to take him back to the tower.”

“Are you sure, Bruce? Shouldn’t he be in a hospital?”

“Not right now, no. We just have to keep a close eye on him.”

“I will.” Steve promised. Tony had the faint idea that he should rebel against it. But it seemed to be too much of a bother to try.

“ _We_ will.” Nat corrected him, a warning audible in her voice.

“Yeah, we will. Tony? You still with us?”

There was a warm hand on his cheek and Tony opened his eyes.

“We better get you into bed.” Bruce murmured and Tony smiled tiredly at him.

“Knew you wanted to get me into bed.”

Bruce chuckled. “Right now, I don’t want anything else.” He glanced behind himself and Tony could have sworn he whispered something to Steve, the super soldier stiffening slightly, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Clint should have the car ready any minute now.”

“Good. Steve, you take Tony. Be careful, we don’t want him to throw up.”

“Of course, Bruce.”

Warm arms wrapped around Tony and lifted him up. When had he closed his eyes again? He tried to think about it, when no answer came to mind, he ignored it, snuggling into the warmth that held him close.

He couldn’t remember a time he felt safe like this. Actually, there was something, a memory in the back of his mind. Jarvis? The human Jarvis, holding him close after one of Howard’s bad days. Hot chocolate.

Tony woke up, when he was moved. He didn’t open his eyes, because even though he wasn’t sure where he was or what was happening, he knew he was safe. The voices around him, although worried and stressed, were familiar. They would keep him safe.

“You’re okay,” a voice whispered into Tony’s ear. Tony believed it.

-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-

Cold hands woke him.

“What…” he slurred, trying to wake up fully and failing miserably.

“Lay back, Tony. I’m just checking you over.” The hands patted him reassuringly. It was Bruce, Tony was sure. He also was sure, he didn’t want to be checked over. He wanted to be warm and to sleep.

“Shh, it’s okay Tony.” Warm hands enclosed one of his holding on. Steve? Steve was here? Tony smiled, trying to snuggle closer to him, but the cold hands of Bruce stopped him.

“Just a moment.”

“You sure we don’t need a doctor, Bruce?”

“What, now I’m not good enough anymore?”

“You always say you’re not that kind of doctor.”

“And since when has anyone of you cared about that?” Bruce challenged Clint, a mixture of annoyance and humor in his voice.

“With Tony’s condition-”

“I know more about it than most doctors ever will, Clint.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Stop it, boys. Does he need a doctor that studied medicine, Bruce?”

Tony didn’t hear the answer. But it didn’t matter anyway, because the warm hands pulled him closer, holding him tight.

-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-

A coughing fit woke Tony up next. Before he knew what was happening, small hands were grabbing his shoulder, moving something from his face while helping him to sit up and rubbing soothing circles into his overheated skin.

When he could breathe again, Tony looked around, meeting Natasha’s green eyes.

“Water?” she whispered, already reaching for the glass on the night stand.

Tony nodded, not wanting to force his sore and dry throat to answer verbally. He shifted slightly on the bed, trying to get more comfortable, when he realized, he couldn’t move his right arm. Glancing down, he saw Steve sitting beside his bed, clinging to Tony’s arm like a lifeline. He had cushioned his head on his arms while he slept.

“Here.” Natasha handed him the glass, sitting back on the chair on Tony’s other side. “We had to drug him, but he wouldn’t leave your side.”

“You drugged him?” His voice was barely more than a raspy whisper, but still, the humor in his voice was clear to hear – at least for Natasha.

“Yes.” There was a small smile on her lips. “It’s your fault by the way. If you thought we were bad before you’ll have another thing coming.” Her smile broadened.

“Did you just threaten me?”

“I obviously did a poor job if you have to ask.”

“Nope, was good. I’m just slow right now.”

“I know, malen’kiy kotenok.”

It took Tony’s fever ridden brain way too long to translate that.

“Little kitten?” He asked, incredulously.

Natasha just smiled. “Lay down and sleep. We’ll keep you safe.”

Tony would never admit it, but he blushed at that. “I know.”

“Good.”

Laying back, he snuggled deeper into his cushions. Just before he drifted off, he felt a butterfly kiss on his cheek.

-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-

“Wakey, wakey, Iron Patient.” Someone obnoxious patted his cheeks insistently.

“Clint…” Tony groaned, blinking into the light. “What do you want.”

“For you to eat some soup.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Don’t care. You’re eating.”

“You’re mean.”

“You’re annoying and I’m still here, so shut up and eat.” Clint pressed the bowl into Tony’s hands, sitting down cross legged beside Tony on his bed.

“In case you’re wondering, Bruce shift just ended and Nat forced Steve to take a shower at gun point, so you’re all mine, now.”

“I knew you couldn’t resist my charm for long.”

“Sure, snot faced, burning up and looking like the walking dead is my type.”

Tony grinned up at him. “All I’m hearing is even looking like that you fell for me.”

“Shut up and eat your soup, or I’ll tell Cap you are a bad patient.”

“He knows I’m a bad patient.”

“He will spoon feed you.”

“I’m eating, relax Birdbrain.”

“You can do nothing the easy way, can you, Iron Ass.”

“Nope. Where would be the fun in that?” Tony grinned up at him. He didn’t taste anything but at least the warmth didn’t hurt his throat any further.

“Yeah and how much fun it was dragging your unconscious ass home.”

Tony looked up at that tone. Clint met his eyes, holding his gaze. “Don’t do it again.”

“I…”

“Just don’t. We’re a family, asshole.”

“I’m feeling the love.” Tony said, halfheartedly, his brain still running too slow.

“Hey.” Clint nudged his leg, forcing Tony to look at him again. “We are worried about you.”

Before Tony could answer, Steve opened the door his hair still wet, a smile blooming on his face the second he saw him awake. His blue eyes shining brightly and warm.

“Be a good patient, or we tie you to the bed. Not in the fun way. We leave that to Steve.” Clint threatened, before pushing himself off the bed with a smile and a wink, leaving Tony alone with Steve.

“I’m so glad you’re awake.” Steve said, flushed a bright red because of Clint’s comment, still he was far to earnest for Tony’s comfort. How could Steve be that earnest, that caring?

“Yeah, thanks. How long have I been here?” It was an obvious topic change, but right now, Tony wasn’t picky

“Almost three days. I-”

“Three days?” He had missed five important meetings – according to Pepper. He had actually planned to miss at least three of them – six deadlines – R&D would be pissed. Pepper would be pissed. He was pissed – and – worst of all – yesterday night had been movie night and it had been his week to pick!

“Shit.” Putting the bowl aside, Tony pushed himself off the bed – or attempted to do it. Before he actually could, a super soldier with crossed arms and an expression between annoyance and worry stopped him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To work. I have-”

“No.”

“What?” Tony looked up, almost curious whether Steve actually believed he could stop Tony from working. He had rested for three days. That was far more than enough.

“If you even try to leave your bed for any other reason than to go to the bathroom, I have explicit instructions from Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes, Pepper Potts and Bruce to stop you and keep you in bed with all means necessary.”

An innuendo was already on his lips, when anger won out. How could Steve stand there, looking as perfect as ever, with his stupid righteous furry and his earnest eyes and tell Tony something when he didn’t know what it did to Tony?

“Stop! I’m a fucking adult and you don’t get to order me around in my own home!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you would just listen!”

“I rested!”

“You blacked out! And you didn’t even tell us!”

“It wasn’t that bad!”

“You almost got pneumonia! The doctor said-”

“I don’t give a shit what-”

“THAT’S THE PROBLEM!” Steve screamed at him, a glint in his eyes Tony had only ever seen in the field.

Taking a deep breath and biting back the cough that wanted to follow, Tony glared up at the Captain. “This is not your fault. You can stop feeling guilty and just let me get on with my life.”

“What?” Steve took a step back as if Tony had slapped him. His face morphed into shock and desperation, before he hid it behind a calmer mask. “I didn’t-”

“It’s okay, Cap. It really wasn’t you fault. You don’t have to…” Tony sighed, already exhausted again. He let himself lean back into the cushions, closing his eyes.

“I didn’t do it out of guilt, I-” Steve stopped, as if he had no idea how to continue. “You’re important to me, Tony. You’re the most- We’re a team. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Tony looked back up into the blue eyes that seemed equally scared and hopeful.

“Yeah. We are.”

“I can’t lose y-… I can’t lose anyone else I care about and…”

“It’s okay, Steve.” Tony leaned forward, grabbing his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. He would do anything, say anything to wipe the lost expression of Steve’s face. Even if Tony had to let Steve follow him and let him take care of him, showing him with every action what Tony desperately wanted and couldn’t have.

“At this point I’m almost sure I can’t die.” He smiled up at the other man, winking. “I survived the Avengers trying to nurture me. I can survive anything.”

Steve laughed, even it sounded a little wet. He laced Tony’s and his fingers together, squeezing them just a little too tight.

“Let’s not test that theory. You still can get hurt.”

“Just because I know all of you would never stop bothering me.” Tony quipped.

Steve’s postured stiffened and he looked aside, something flashing over his features and even though Tony didn’t know what it had been, it hadn’t been good.

“Steve?”

Steve looked back at him with a forced smile on his lips.

“Just because I’m not used to being… cared for I… I don’t hate it.”

“You don’t?” There was the hope again, shining out of all of Steve, bright and burning.

“No, I… I just…” Say it Stark, come on. Feelings don’t bite. Much. “I’m just not used to it and…” Come on, coward, say it! “I need breathing room.”

“Especially with the reduced lung capacity,” Steve smiled. There were too many emotions dancing in his eyes for Tony to name all of them, but the most prominent were relief, understanding, something that could possibly be sadness and happiness. Did it really make Steve this happy and relieved to be allowed to care for Tony?

“Just because of it,” he agreed, too exhausted and overwhelmed to say much more.

“May I?” Steve leaned over Tony, helping him to get more comfortable, before resuming his place on the chair right beside his bed. He hesitated for a moment, before taking Tony’s hand back into his own. He looked up with a raised eyebrow as if to ask if it was okay.

It was, even if Tony still wished it could mean more.

“You don’t have to sit here, you know. I’m sure Jarvis would be more than happy to rat me out.”

“More than happy to, Captain Rogers, I assure you.”

“That’s my back-stabbing AI.”

“The love is mutual, Sir.”

Tony rolled his eyes but still smiled at one of the cameras.

“I want to be here, Tony.” Steve squeezed is hand again, smiling at Tony in a way that made him forget almost anything aside from the fact that it could be nice to be cared for from time to time.

Tony Stark really was a Sucker™ (for Steve Rogers).

(Over the next week Tony was cared for (pampered!) by all of the Avengers. Bruce sat by his side for hours discussing theories and watching documentaries. Clint, annoying as always, forced Tony to play video games with him, declaring Jarvis was helping him whenever he won. Natasha brought him sweets and sat with him. Most of the sweets were imported chocolates. Steve spend most of the day with Tony. After the first few days he even started to ask him if he wanted company and actually respected it, when Tony wanted to be alone. More often than not, Tony declined it, enjoying the easy company. With all of them.)

(When Peter found to what happened, he came to the tower setting camp on Tony's bed. At least for the weekend he was allowed to stay over, which meant for the Spiderling he stayed in Tony's bed, not moving an inch, glaring at all the other Avengers, because, according to the teenager, Tony was quite obvious when he was getting sick and the others should have been more careful. He declared also, he would never skip on coming to the Tower again, which he had because of first May's birthday and then a project for school. When he realized he hadn't seen Tony in over two weeks, he got even more upset, convinced it was his fault, Tony hadn't taken care of himself. That was the moment Tony decided that enough was enough. He took the younger genius in his arms, hugging him longer than he had ever hugged anyone - even Rhodey after Afghanistan. It took some time, but he was able to convince Peter to lay down beside him and watch movies, which they did. Peter, obviously exhausted, fell asleep curled into Tony's side and not even the sniggering of Clint or slightly longing glances from Steve could take away the pure bliss Tony was feeling while holding his kid in his arms. Before Peter left on Sunday night, he made Tony promise to be more careful, listen to Bruce and made all the other Avengers swear to protect Tony - especially from himself. Tony tried to not hold it against the teenager. But every time he was about to get annoyed with him, he remembered Peter in his arms, snuggling to him like an overgrown toddler. Tony Stark was a Sucker™ for Peter Parker, not that that was anything new.)

(Pepper and Rhodey called almost every day. Pepper ordered the Avengers to make sure Tony stayed in bed, moved all his deadline and told him the next time he would pull a stunt like that she would quit. It was (probably) an empty threat, still Tony would try to behave a little in the next couple of weeks, just in case. Rhodey almost flew out the second he heard that Tony was unconscious. As soon as he got Tony on the phone he made him swear to not do it again, or he would tell Captain Oblivious about his feelings. Tony agreed to be better. He knew Rhodey would never break his trust, still... both him and Pepper would do anything to protect Tony, he knew that. Rhodey calmed down, when Tony, in the presence of Steve and Rhodey, set a new protocol for Jarvis to inform both of them if Tony was seriously ill. (It took all of them almost four hours to agree on the parameters).)

(Thor came back the last day Bruce had him on bedrest. When he heard what had happened, he declared his utmost devastation that he hadn’t been there for his friend Anthony in his dire need and kept Steve company for the next week in following Tony around like hyperactive puppies, constantly asking if he could help him. When Tony finally snapped, he told both of them he would tolerate maximum one blond-muscled shadow. Miraculously after that Thor only followed Tony whenever Steve wasn’t around.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and Comments are always welcome!
> 
> Oh, and the recipe for hot chocolate is awesome, try some :D


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